Growth Unhindered
by Corncake
Summary: Dumbledore, hoping to spare Harry from the woes of fame and give him a normal childhood, doesn't send Harry the Hogwarts admission. Now, upon the return of the Dark Lord, Dumbledore's hand is forced, and he "introduces" Harry to the wizarding world. But Harry discovered magic all on his own, and a cunning, powerful Harry is loosed upon Hogwarts. HHr. Powerful!Slytherin!Harry
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: It is very close to a statistical impossibility that I own Harry Potter

* * *

Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, Great Britain - July 24, 1991

Harry awoke suddenly with a smile on his face, knowing it was going to be a good day. He didn't know how he knew, just that he did. He looked at the broken watch in the corner of his closet, and noted that it was almost 7; he had to get to work on chores. He finished them promptly and then cooked a large omelet, divvied it up, and sat down to eat. Just as the first bite entered his mouth, his uncle strolled into the room.

"Eating before us, are you? You finish your chores?" Vernon brusquely asked.

"Everything but the mail, sir," Harry meekly replied.

"Well what are you doing there, lazing about? Go get the mail, boy."

Harry sighed and began the, as his stomach always noted, long walk to the front door. He had figured that on a day as good as today he would be able to get away with eating a full portion: Dudley would have certainly stolen most of Harry's food by the time he returned. With another sigh he picked up the mail and began the trek back.

'_Perhaps I got a letter,' _he thought,_ 'That would make this a great day!' _A quick glance at the mail informed him that there was, as always, nothing for him.

He quietly handed the mail to Uncle Vernon, sat down, and ate the three remaining bites. The remainder of the day passed uneventfully, and Harry went to sleep disappointed. It had not been a good day.

* * *

Stonewall High, Surrey, Great Britain - September 1, 1991

"Oi, ickle kiddy, we're here to welcome you to Stonewall High."

Harry spun around and noted the three older students standing behind him. He mentally dubbed them Shorty, Fatty, and Smelly, as per their defining characteristics. Fatty, the clear leader of the gang and the one who had spoken, suddenly pushed him down and crowed, "Well kiddy, do ya feel welcome?"

Harry stood up, but Smelly grabbed him and began pulling him towards the bathroom. Harry struggled but was unable to free himself from Smelly's odiferous grip. Fatty grabbed his shoulder from behind and shoved him into a stall, saying, "We're about to make you feel a whole lot more welcome," and as his cronies laughed at his attempt at humor, he began pushing Harry's head down.

Harry panicked and instinctually kicked his right leg back, catching Fatty right in the crotch. With Fatty's grip loosened, Harry dove between his bowed legs, knocking Fatty face first into the toilet. The two lunks guarding the entrance to the stall jumped at him, but strangely, their trainers found no traction with the floor and they instead fell forward, their heads knocking together. Harry scrambled to his feet and as he made to run, glanced behind himself.

Smelly and Shorty were unconscious on the floor and Fatty was sputtering and moaning inside the stall. With a grin on his face, Harry strolled out of the loo and winked at his fearful peers, who had seen the three bullies take him into the bathroom. Stonewall High had a new hero.

* * *

Stonewall High, Surrey, Great Britain - November 4, 1991

Harry noticed that he was now across the campus from where he was, making this the fifth time he had mysteriously escaped Fatty, Smelly, and Shorty, whose names he had refused to learn. He decided to ignore the oddity for the moment and focus on the pressing problem: the need to escape from the Rude Dudes, as he thought of them collectively. _'Well, I could always learn parkour, but I kinda want to fight back. I think I have enough change collected up to pay for martial arts lessons. I guess I need to find a dojo.'_

On his 90 minute walk home, he paused at a phone booth and looked up the address of a dojo. He noticed that 'Ming's Judo' was near his path "home" and decided to stop there and look around. Upon arriving, he found that it appeared empty but was open. He went in and in the office was a 40-ish dangerous looking Chinese man. He greeted Harry with a smile and said, "Hello, welcome to my dojo. Would you like to learn?"

"I do, but I don't think I can afford it," Harry responded politely, having seen the prices on the wall.

"Oh? Can't your parents pay?"

"My aunt and uncle," Harry corrected, "Would never spend a single extra pence on me."

Ming hummed for a moment, disturbed. "Well perhaps we can negotiate a price better for you. Why do you wish to learn Judo?"

"Bullies at my school are after me and my friends. Could I do chores to make up for the remainder?"

"Yes, that'll work nicely," Ming decided, feeling pity for the nice young boy, "Just give me what you can afford and help me clean up after lessons. We meet on Tuesdays from 4 to 5 and on Sundays from 1 to 4. See you then."

"Thank you sir!" Harry exclaimed and walked off with a smile.

* * *

Magnolia Crescent, Little Winging, Surrey, Great Britain – June 1, 1992

Harry noticed that in his happiness of a successful date with Jenny, he was floating, literally, and decided, _'I think I'll look into these weird happenings this summer.'_

* * *

Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain – June 4, 1992

"_Reducto_!" exclaimed Quirrel, as he proved unable to obtain the stone.

He suddenly fell onto the ground, writhing in pain from the torture inflicted upon him for his, ultimately last, failure. The shade of Voldemort left the Defense Professor and made its hasty escape: by the time Dumbledore reached the room, all that remained was a rapidly cooling corpse and shards of glass.

* * *

Stonewall High, Surrey, Great Britain – January 20, 1993

"Mr. Dursley, where is your wife?" asked Ms. Bretts, the school counselor. "It is requested that both parents come to conferences."

"We didn't want to both waste the night on this boy, and she went last time." Mr. Dursley leaned forward menacingly and asked, "Is that a problem, Ms…." He trailed off questioningly, despite her name being on an obvious plaque on her desk.

"Bretts," she finished for him, beginning to look flustered, "And it is not a problem, as Harry is always a good boy."

"Hah! Him, a good boy? Rotten to the core, that one. Now my Dudders, on the other hand…"

"Well, it would seem we have nothing to discuss," she said, cutting him off. "I suppose you'll be leaving now." She turned to address the polite boy who had stayed sitting quietly off to the side for the meeting, and as he began to get up said, "Harry dear, if you could stay a moment."

"Have a nice night, Ms. Brats," Mr. Dursley said gruffly as he got up to leave.

"What a horrible man," Ms. Bretts said once he was gone. "Is he always like that?"

Harry gave a sad smile and said "No, no. He was on good behavior tonight."

"Oh my. Well if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be here."

"Thank you, Ms. Bretts," he said as he too left the office.

* * *

Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain – February 10, 1993

"Professor Dumbledore, I found this diary in Moaning Myrtle's restroom. It responds when you write in it. I did some research and found that sentience can't be a good sign."

"Thank you, Ms. Granger. It was very wise of you to bring this to me. Twenty points to Gryffindor."

Hermione smiled at him and walked back down to the Gryffindor table, where she sat next to Neville. Dumbledore looked down at the book in his hands and thought, _'Oh Tom, what have you done?'_

* * *

Stonewall High, Surrey, Great Britain – March 12, 1993

"Hello Harry. I suppose you're wondering why I called you here."

Harry nodded and said, "Yes, a little bit. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, not at all. This is about your home life. I've noticed that the Dursleys are not the ideal guardians."

"Eh, they're not that bad," Harry responded and then mumbled under his breath, "Well not that bad if you like being ignored and treated like a servant…"

"Yes, well, I've been looking at your records, and while you don't seem to be abused, they are indisputably horrible people."

Harry nodded again, wondering where she was going.

"So, I've come to the conclusion that, if you are willing, you should be transferred to a boarding school, where you won't have to go home to them every day."

Harry grinned widely and exclaimed, "That'd be brilliant! Thank you, thank you, and yes please."

"My sister is the Headmistress of Regents Boarding, a school just north of London proper. Since you're a perfect student, I'm sure we can get you in for free."

"Whew. There's no way the Dursleys would pay for that. So when will I be transferred?"

"You will finish the school year here and go there after summer vacation."

"Great! Thanks again Ms. Bretts," Harry said with a smile.

* * *

Hatchlands Park, Surrey, Great Britain – July 12, 1993

"Hah, Yes! I've finally gotten 500 meters down," Harry said as he blinked back and forth across the park, under the cover of darkness. _'I guess I should get to work on conjuring,' _he thought with a sigh. Sitting down on a log, Harry began practicing what was, in his opinion, the hardest branch of magic. He held open his palm, with a look of great concentration on his face, and an acorn suddenly appeared in it.

'_Damn, creating things is exhausting. Wait, matter "can't" be created. Maybe I should be doing this in a less impossible way…"_

Harry focused on a rock on the ground, changed its molecular makeup to match that of gold, and then blinked it into his hand. _'Well, that was easier,'_ he thought, as he resolved to practice both methods, the first to improve his stamina and the second for control. He reached into his pocket to find something to practice telekinesis on, and his fingers met the card Master Ming had given him. He thought back to the conversation they had had earlier in the day.

(Flashback Start)

"So, you will be leaving this summer, then?"

"Yes, Master."

"Hmm, that region sounds familiar. Ah yes," Ming said with a snap of his fingers, "I have an uncle who lives in the area. He runs a tea shop, I have his card somewhere," he said, shuffling through his desk. "You should seek him for more training."

"Very well, Master."

(Flashback End)

Harry shrugged the memory off, having already resolved to follow Ming's advice, and began making the card zoom around the clearing.

* * *

A Beach House, Cherbourg, France – July 25, 1993

"Hello Horace."

"Albus! Fancy seeing you here. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"No pleasure, I'm afraid. I am, in fact, on the most dire of business. I have recently learned that Tom has made a horcrux." Slughorn gasped and began his denial. "I am sorry Horace, but it is of the utmost importance that I have the real memory. I do not wish to use force."

Slughorn seemingly collapsed upon himself, a defeated man with all his friendly bluster gone, and used his wand to extract the memory.

* * *

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain – July 25, 1993

"Seven Tom? Oh, how could you stoop so low…"

* * *

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain – July 29, 1993

Dumbledore looked at the paper in front of him, and began thinking out loud. "So one of Tom's loyal followers has escaped Azkaban? And so soon after I learned the truth. Could it be a coincidence? Hmm, heard muttering "He's at Hogwarts". No, I must take any opportunity: I will hunt down Black myself, and learn what he knows."

* * *

Majorca, Spain – August 5, 1993

"Hello Sirius."

"Albus? Oh thank goodness it was you who found me. I need your help."

"Why would I help an escaped convict?" Dumbledore asked, sounding interested.

"I'm innocent Albus. Peter was the secret keeper and he framed me that day, killing the muggles and cutting off his own finger."

"Oh? Would you mind if I used legilimency on you?"

"Feel free," Sirius responded, looking Dumbledore right in the eye.

...

"Well, an innocent man is not at all what I expected to find," Dumbledore muttered after a short pause. "Is there any chance you know anything about horcruxes?" He asked absentmindedly.

"Some sort of horribly evil soul magic right? Now that you mention it, I think I remember hearing Kreacher and Reggie say something about one." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and Sirius hastily added "Err, Kreacher is the Black family house elf."

"And is this Kreacher still alive? I think I may have some questions for him."

* * *

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain – August 20, 1993

Having found and destroyed the locket, Dumbledore had to accept that there were multiple horcruxes. His search for the rest had turned up dry so far, as the cave he had found matched the description Kreacher had given him. Unfortunately, his duties were getting in the way of the search, and it had to be delayed.

* * *

Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain – September 1, 1993

"Mr. Weasley, if you will follow me," Dumbledore said, as he began walking towards his office.

"Uh, okay Headmaster. Did I do something wrong?"

"No Mr. Weasely. Please just humor an old man."

…

Ron's eyes widened as he saw all the high ranking DMLE officials in the office. Dumbledore smiled at him and coughed. With a small gesture, a rat shot out of Ron's pocket and into Dumbledore's waiting hand. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I called you here," he began, and with a theatric wave, a short, fat, balding man was lying on the ground. "Allow me to introduce you to one Mr. Peter Pettigrew."

* * *

Regents Boarding, London, Great Britain – September 1, 1993

"Hi there," Julie said, as she walked away from her friends towards the cute guy standing alone, off to the side. "I'd like to welcome you Regents Boarding. I'm Julie. Who're you?"

Harry flashed her a friendly smile and responded, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter. It definitely seems like a nice school so far," he said as he ran his hand through his thick, tufted hair, "and having girls this pretty never hurts."

Julie's cheeks, which were already slightly flushed from noticing how muscular Harry was, lit up brightly from Harry's shameless flirting. She sputtered for a bit, and once she regained her composure smiled back at him and commented, "I'm sure you'll love it here, then. Come on; let's go introduce you to my friends."

* * *

Chao's Tea, London, Great Britain – September 6, 1993

Harry politely greeted the venerable Chinese man who was bustling around the shop with a "Hello there," and asked "Are you Chao?"

"Yes I am Chao. You want tea?" Chao abrasively responded.

"No, err well yes, but that's not why I'm here. Your cousin, my old Master Ming, recommended I come to you for further training."

"I do not train anymore. What tea do you want?"

"Ah, I'll have a green tea and a plain scone," Harry ordered, and asked, "Is there any way I can convince you to teach me?"

"I do not teach." Chao stated, as he left to deliver the order.

Harry sighed and shifted in his seat waiting for his tea. _'I guess I'll have to find a different dojo,'_ he thought as he habitually brushed his hair out of his face.

Five minutes later, Chao returned with the tea and scone, and raised his brows when he noticed Harry's scar. "Very well," he decided, "I shall teach you, marked one."

"Really?" Harry wondered, "That's great!" After a short pause Harry realized what he'd been called, and asked why.

"That scar on your forehead contains great evil," Chao responded. "You have been marked by a dangerous foe, and I expect you two are destined to meet again. For what purpose, I cannot say." Chao paused for a few moments, abruptly stated, "I shall work on you from dawn to dusk every Sunday. Do not come and you lose the privilege of my teaching," and walked off, leaving a speculative Harry behind.

* * *

Chao's Tea, London, Great Britain – September 7, 1993

"Hello Master Chao. What are we going to work on? Katas?"

"Katas? Bah! You wish to run before you can crawl? No, we will start on breathing."

"I know how to breathe, Master Chao," Harry said disappointedly.

"The student always thinks he knows everything," Chao stated, "but there is a reason he is the student and not the master."

…

45 minutes into the monotonous breathing exercises Harry began to get annoyed. The annoyance caused an irregularity in his breath pattern and Chao whacked him on the shoulder with a bamboo cane, again. "Argh! This is useless," Harry exclaimed, "I'm not going to get any better at breathing. Can't we do something else?"

"Yes. You lack patience and control. I obviously started you at too high a step: you shall meditate instead."

"Meditate?"

"Yes. Clear your mind of all thoughts. Sit there and stay there; do not move. I shall be back in five hours," Chao said as he got up to leave, turning off the light and shutting the door on the way out.

"_Fuck that old man,"_ Harry thought, and, in case Chao was listening, he voiced, "Well I guess there's no harm in trying, is there?"

…

Three hours into meditating, Harry successfully plunged himself into utter darkness, where he could see nothing, hear nothing, and feel nothing. He had been sitting there in the darkness for what seemed like days, when he finally sensed some sort of aura. It felt warped, twisted, and malignant. He stood up and began walking towards it. A feeling of foreboding got stronger and stronger as he walked towards it and just before it became unbearable he stopped, sensing a barrier in front of him. With a mental shrug, he strolled through the barrier and suddenly felt terrible, soul-splitting, pain. He had to clench his teeth to keep from screaming and awoke from his trance.

…

About fifteen minutes later, and exactly five hours after he had left, Chao walked into the room to find Harry sitting there in the same position, sweating and shuddering, with blood running down from his split open scar.

* * *

Chao's Tea, London, Great Britain – September 25, 1993

Harry winced as he was once more subjected to the wall of pain that protected his, as he liked to call it, little evil implant. Something felt different this time, however; the wall seemed weaker. With an extra push, he cleared the wall and was finally free of the pain. Looking around, it seemed as if he was in the same pitch black locale as the rest of his mind, except it felt defiled. While he was getting his bearings and sending himself into an aware but highly meditative state, the sense of defilement increased tenfold, and an oily, twisted voice rang out, "Well if it isn't the Potter child. Come to pay little old me a visit, have you?"

Harry said nothing, as Chao had prepared him for this eventuality.

(Flashback Start)

"Marked one. When you have breached this evil place, you will find a twisted spirit. This spirit feeds off of your emotions. It is part of your mind; thinking of it strengthens it. To defeat it, you must go before it and disregard it entirely."

"Yes Master."

(Flashback End)

Suddenly a giant, snakelike face appeared before Harry, its eyes glowing with hellfire. Harry didn't react and in his state of meditative calm, had had hardly noticed the appearance of his foe's visage. The face snarled at Harry's apathy and prepared to scream out angrily, but Harry finished his meditation, causing the face to disappear. He then walked off into the darkness to see find the memories that lay within.

* * *

Hanson Street, London, Great Britain—October 31, 1993

'_Damn, I should so have not let myself get talked into egging those pansies,'_ Harry thought as he dodged into a building to avoid a constable. Looking around the pub he found himself in, he noted that everyone seemed to be wearing wizard costumes that all followed the same theme, even the bartender. _'What a weird party,'_ he thought, but shrugged and sat down at a table to order some food. A few minutes of befuddlement later, he looked up from his menu and asked the cute young waitress, who, he noted, was also dressed in a wizard costume, that was waiting for his order, "Erm, this all looks delicious and all, but what exactly is a hippogriff special?"

"Sautéed hippogriff steaks and leek soup," she replied without missing a beat.

"Hippogriff steaks?" Harry asked after a short pause.

"Yes, we purchase them from Scotland. Quite the rage these days. Would you like to order them? They're quite tasty."

"And they're made from real hippogriffs?" Harry asked, looking into her eyes to try to detect dishonesty.

"Of course! You must be asking because of the suit filed against hippogriff dealers a few months ago, but I assure you that we've kept up the quality of our supply."

"Uh huh," Harry said, not noticing any dishonesty in the waitress. "Well I guess I'll have that then."

* * *

The Wand in the Stone, Hanson Street, London, Great Britain—November 20, 1993

On his fourth visit to The Wand in the Stone, the little magical pub he had wandered into, he sat down at a table that had a drunk wizard sitting at it, in an attempt to gather information. The drunk looked up at him and eventually slurred out, "Oi, are you Harry Potter?"

"Who me?" Harry asked, confused as to how the drunk knew his name, and finally responded, "Err no, I'm Jim. Jim Timmons," giving the drunk the false name he habitually used.

"Aww well. You sure do look like 'im."

"Yeah, but sadly I am not. He sure is a great guy though…" Harry said, in an attempt to fish for information.

"Great guy nothing! He's the sav'ya of the entire wizarding world."

Harry blinked, rather confused by the drunk's antics. "What a hero," Harry finally said with a smile. "I forget the exact details though. Care to remind me, mate?"

"How could ya' forget? The-Boy-Who lived was the one to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," the man said, whispering the last bit.

"Ah, of course, how silly of me. And how old do you reckon he was when he did this?"

"Err, about one and a half I'd say. He got a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead when he offed the bastard," the drunk finished, remembering some more of the story.

"Err, wow... I've got to be going."

* * *

Chao's Tea, London, Great Britain – December 22, 1993

Having finished the exhausting process of moving the spirit's memories outside of his little evil implant, Harry crossed the wall of pain one last time. The visage appeared and this time, instead of ignoring it as he usually did, Harry looked right at it and spoke, "I see you, spirit. I hear you, I smell you, and I sense your presence." Harry then began the meditative process he had honed over the last several months and spoke again, "I see you no longer, spirit," he said as his sight was cut off. "I hear you no longer, smell you no longer, and no longer sense your presence." With no way of detecting the shade, Harry intoned, "You no longer exist. You are nothing."

Harry opened his eyes to see Chao gazing at him. "It is done, Master," he said, noticing a lack of a minor malignant aura that he hadn't noticed before now.

* * *

Regents Boarding, London, Great Britain – March 12, 1994

"I raise."

"Harry, I know that you're new to poker, but you should at least look at your cards."

"I'll be fine, Julie."

"Uh huh."

…

"How in the world are you winning without even looking at your cards? That's impossible!"

"Magic," Harry responded, with a wave of his fingers. _'Damn, luck manipulation is totally the best branch of magic.'_

* * *

Breshke, Albania—July 15, 1994

Luckily for Voldemort, because he had, ah, advanced to future victories (Dark Lords do not retreat), before Dumbledore arrived, his spectre had retained enough strength to travel and possess weak willed individuals. Unfortunately for one Bertha Jorkins, she was one such weak willed individual.

* * *

The Riddle House, Little Hangleton, Great Britain—August 15, 1994

"I thank you again, My Lord, for freeing me," Crouch said, as he crouched on the ground before Berthamort. "What are your orders?"

"You … will bring me the Potter boy."

"Yes My Lord."

* * *

The Wand in the Stone, Hanson Street, London, Great Britain—September 12, 1994

"Hey Jim, are you busy tonight?"

"Not for a few hours," Harry responded to the pretty waitress. "Why do you ask, Sammy?"

"Well the boss told me that I'm on supply duty after my shift is over, so I have to head over to Diagon Alley to pick up and sign off a few purchases, and figured I could use an extra pair of hands. You game?"

Harry smiled internally, glad that getting a part time job at the pub was finally paying off, and accepted the offer.

…

The two pops that mark side-along apparition rang out, and Harry and Sammy found themselves in the ministry approved apparition site. Sammy began the short walk to their destination: a building located behind Magical Menagerie that was fittingly titled Magical Meats. They quickly acquired the goods and Harry acquired a firm visual image of a nearby empty alley, so that he would be able to teleport there on return trips.

* * *

Flourish and Blotts, Diagon Alley, London, Great Britain—September 13, 1994

'_Finally, a bookstore. Damn, but there are some weird shops here..." _Harry thought, as he sifted through the store to find the books on wizarding culture and immediate history that he had deemed of utmost importance. He picked up a copy of _The History of Magic_, as it seemed to be in a place of reverence, and skipped to the section on The-Boy-Who-lived's triumph over You-Know-who. There was little new information to Harry, and he still did not know who, but there was one little tidbit that interested Harry: "leaving the Boy-Who-Lived the sole inheritor of the Potter family fortune."

Harry left the bookstore and headed down to the bank he had noticed on his search. Upon arriving, he paused, noticing the little evil gnomes that appeared to run the bank, and turned around and returned to the bookstore. He bought several books on wizarding culture, a few books on goblin culture, and many books of magic. He smiled to himself as he paid, glad that he could put the money that was in the stolen purse to good use. Why that snooty blonde prick was carrying a woman's purse like it was the most natural thing in the world, he would never know.

* * *

The Riddle House, Little Hangleton, Great Britain—September 15, 1994

"You…still have not found me the boy?"

"N-no milord. I thought I saw him in Diagon Alley a few days ago, but it a was false alarm…"

"A false alarm?" Voldemort hissed angrily, still trapped in the now emaciated body of Bertha Jorkins. "The best you can do is a false alarm?"

"Forgive me my lord. I-I am trying. I am your most loya—"

"_Crucio!_" Voldemort shrieked, interrupting Crouch. "You will find me the boy, or you will die. Leave my my presence, failure."

"Y-yes milord."

* * *

Regents Boarding, London, Great Britain – November 16, 1994

"Hey, Harry, we're heading down to the barbershop. Want to come?"

"Err, no thanks Jim," Harry responded to the friend whose name he used in the wizarding world. "My hair grows really slowly."

"Ok. See you later then," Jim said as he left.

'_Hey, now that I think about it, my hair does grow really slowly. Unnaturally slowly, if it even grows at all. It has regrown with magic a few times though…'_

Harry went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, trying to urge his hair to grow with magic. Nothing was happening, so Harry tried to overload the magic and everything went dark. _'Am I unconscious?'_ Harry thought, before realizing that he could see dim light, and felt something covering his face. He brushed aside what he now realized was hair, and looked at himself in the mirror.

'_Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair,'_ he thought with a grin as he tried, and managed, to shorten his hair back to its normal length. He glanced at the dashing fellow in the mirror, and wondered if he could change his appearance more than just his hair length.

…

'_Damn, altering living cells hurts like a bitch,'_ Harry thought, after trying to change his skin color. _'So, in a pinch I can do it, but only dead cells are painlessly alterable. That's fine, I look great as it is.'_

* * *

Regents Boarding, London, Great Britain – October 11, 1994

Harry slumped down on the bed, sore as ever after the beat down Chao let out. _'At least I'm learning how to fight now,'_ Harry thought, _'and am finally done with all that breathing and balance shit. Even though I used my luck manipulation, I got my ass beat. I suppose whatever cosmic system that organizes luck thought it was "lucky" for me to get those wise words of wisdom of his…"_

(Flashback Start)

"Beware marked one," Chao began, once Harry "luckily" dodged one of Chao jabs, by falling on his ass, "for too much luck produces an imbalance. Perhaps this imbalance will snap back at you, perhaps not. But dare you tempt Lady Luck?"

* * *

The Riddle House, Little Hangleton, Great Britain—November 1, 1994

"M-master, I swear I'll find him next time…"

"There will be no next time, fool. You have but one purpose left—" Voldemort said, cutting off abruptly as his spirit left the all but dead body of Bertha Jorkins and possessed Crouch's. "You get the priviledge of being the vessel that brings me to a more competent minion," he finished, inside his new body.

* * *

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, Great Britain—November 2, 1994

"Hello…Lucius," Voldemort hissed, sitting comfortably in the main chair of Lucius' office, as he greeted the man who entered.

"My Lord!" Lucius exclaimed, recognizing the hiss, and falling to his knee. He began stammering, "My Lord, I have prepa—"

"Spare me the drivel Lucius. Bring me Harry Potter."

"Yes My Lord," Lucius respectfully said, and left the office to begin his search, dismissed.

* * *

Paris, France—March 25, 1995

Harry was enjoying the vacation to France. It was a school sponsored event so he was with all his friends, and somehow they, along with their teacher, had gotten lost. In Paris. With none of them speaking a word of French. They had been wandering for about an hour now, as the few English speaker they had encounters gave them vague directions to their hotel that didn't really help at all. Harry paused at a stand to purchase a roll, and felt his danger senses go off. He turned around, saw only a faceful of red light, and suddenly knew no more.

* * *

A Graveyard, Little Hangleton, Great Britain—March 25, 1995

Lucius Malfoy was ecstatic. The Potter boy had shown up on several tracing charms suddenly; apparently he had left the range of Dumbledore's wards by foolishly crossing the channel. He had even managed to find the boy before the Dark Lord had begun torturing his family; young Draco didn't even know about the new development. Lucius shook his head and strolled towards the little git that was the source, it not the literal cause, of all the torture he'd had to undergo lately. The brat was strapped to a gravestone and still unconscious. Lucius stabbed the boy with the sacrificial knife to obtain the _'Blood of the foe, Forcibly taken'_ and Harry awoke with a scream.

'_Fuck! Where am I?' _Harry thought as he looked at the head of the oddly familiar blonde prick that was strolling away with his blood in a jar. Harry watched the man carry out some sort ritual and saw some sort of malevolent shade enter some sort of steaming cauldron. Harry decided not to stick around for the grand finale, and blinked away.

After blinking to a safe location, Harry focused his mind and teleported into the back room of Chao's tea, where he would stay for a few days before returning to school and claim that he was kidnapped.

* * *

Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain—March 25, 1995

Dumbledore had expected that when his whizzer (or was it a whirrer? He was never sure.) had alerted him that Harry was in danger and then was promptly safe that nothing would come of it. Perhaps it was a misreading or Harry got in a little fight. He did not expect however, for Severus to report to him a few hours later that Tom had been resurrected and Harry was used and had escaped.

"Harry, Harry, is your time up? Can the world afford for you to remain a child, or must I force fame and power upon you? Has my decision to give you a normal childhood been so quickly overturned? No. You do not need to enter the public eye yet. Yes, that is what I shall do," Dumbledore decided, and resolved to introduce Harry to the world of magic after the school year ended. He would need some time to catch up, of course, but maybe he could be present for seventh year.

* * *

Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch, Scotland, Great Britain—June 24, 1995

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, glared around the pitch diligently, expecting something to happen if he got distracted while clapping for the victor of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Cedric Diggory. Karkaroff looked mighty suspicious, rubbing his mark like that, but ultimately nothing happened.

* * *

Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, Great Britain—July 12, 1995

Harry strolled up to his relative's house, having finished his morning jog, and bent down to pick up the mail on the way in. He glanced at the pile and noticed that there was a package of parchment addresses to _'Harry Potter, The Smaller Bedroom, Number 4 Privet Drive'_, and took it into his room, his shower forgotten. The fine vellum inside read:

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Gran Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwup,

Internation confed. of Wizards)

'_Huh, so they're finally entering me in Hogwarts? I wonder why…' _Looking down the page, he noted that it seemed more like a personal letter than a formal admission.

_Hello Harry. I suppose you are wondering what this is all about. My dear boy, you are a wizard. A human with magical power, in case you were unaware. While most English wizards, including your parents, attended Hogwarts at eleven, circumstances made it impossible for you to do so. I regret taking away your birthright, but hopefully I can now right the wrong I wrought, and allow you admission to Hogwarts. Please send your response with the owl._

—_Albus Dumbledore, _

_Headmaster_

'_Sounds wise and humble but is also subtly manipulative,'_ Harry thought._ 'Yep, that matches everything I've heard about him. I suppose Hogwarts would be a good place to make connections, so I'll go along with it for now,'_ and scrawled an amicable acceptance, hoping to end up on the powerful headmaster's good side, before realizing the letter had not arrived with an owl. He then heard the incessant tapping on his window and opened it to find a disgruntled owl that had been hovering there pecking for several minutes. He pulled out some string and tied the letter to the owl's leg as he had seen wizards do, and the owl took off.

…

Several hours later he received a package that was much too small for the dozen books it contained, and a missive to read said books and to expect to begin training with a wand next summer.

* * *

Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain—November 18, 1995

"Well Gred, this Defense Professor falls under category two."

"Yes he does, brother mine. 'Hafta admit though, it's rather odd—"

"—Having a competent DADA teacher for three years running."

"Yes, yes. Makes you rather miss Lockhart, 'cause you know what category two means…"

"No pranking…" Forge finished for his twin with a sigh.

* * *

Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, Great Britain—December 12, 1995

Harry tossed the finished _Standard Book of Spells: Year Four_, leaving only the fifth year set remaining out of all the books Dumbledore had gotten him. _'Well, I guess I'll have head in to Flourish and Blott's and purchase the books for sixth and seventh year this break…'_

* * *

Department of Mysteries, Minstry for Magic (level 9), London, Great Britain—December 18, 1995

"Merlin, Ralph! There's a body there!"

"Bloody Hell! Hey, isn't that Arthur Weasley?"

"Yeah, red hair and all! We've got to take him to Saint Mungos…"

* * *

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, Great Britain—May 21, 1996

"I grow tired of waiting as you fools fail me again and again."

"We'll do it next time, M-Master—"

"_Crucio_. Speak not in my presence, Avery, you failure." Voldemort looked up at the gathering of Death Eaters before him and spoke, "You are all so incompetent that you cannot infiltrate a bureaucratic ministry or find a schoolboy. I should not allow any of you pitiful wastes of space to breathe this air. But I am merciful. Tonight, you all shall get one last chance. I have waited long enough; I will lead the assault on the Ministry myself. It is time the world remembers to fear Lord Voldemort," he finished, glaring as his minions cheered.

* * *

Department of Mysteries, Minstry for Magic (level 9), London, Great Britain—May 21, 1996

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lor—"_

"_Reducto."_

Voldemort let out a shriek of inhuman rage as the fragile glass prophecy ball shattered in his hands. He whirled around to find Dumbledore standing across the room from him, wand extended. Dumbledore looked down his spectacles and mused, "I wonder what that little ball had to say. Don't you, Tom?"

Voldemort loosed a killing curse at the wise headmaster, and in a fit of magic power fuelled by anger, shouted _"Bombarda"_ at the ceiling, tearing through dozens of feet of magically reinforced bedrock, and flew up to the next floor. Fawkes appeared on Dumbledore's shoulder, and in a burst of fire, they both appeared before Voldemort. Voldemort gradually tore his way to the Atrium of the Ministry, fending off curses from Dumbledore all the while. He then set off a huge burst of fiendfyre at his feet, and while Dumbledore was busy protecting civilians, Voldemort apparated away, tail between his legs.

* * *

Diagon Alley, London, Great Britain—May 22, 1996

Strolling through the alley, Harry suddenly had a newspaper shoved into his hands, with the scared sounding vendor saying something along the lines of "They're free today…" Harry didn't really catch what the man was saying, as he was staring into the paper in his hands.

**HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS**

YOU-KNOW-WHO ATTACKS MINISTRY, FOUGHT OFF BY SUPREME MUGWUMP

'_Huh. I bet this is why Dumbledore is entering me into Hogwarts. Sly old bastard.'_

_In a shocking course of events, the Dark Lord, long presumed dead after his failure to kill the Boy-Who-Lived on October 31, 1981, snuck into the Department of Mysteries in order to steal an undisclosed object. Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin 1__st__ Class, Supreme Mugwump, etc., caught him there and destroyed the object. The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has increased auror funding and sent reinforcements to Azkaban to prevent a breakout. So begins the Second Wizarding War. For Dumbledore's official statement, see page 3. For Fudge's official statement, see page 5._

Harry stared at the picture accompanying the column, and watched as the Dark Lord threw down an explosion and apparated away and Dumbledore conjured a shimmering shield. For a moment in each loop, Harry could see the Dark Lord's fiery eyes staring right at the camera. He shivered, suddenly chilled, and turned to read the rest of the article.

* * *

Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey—July 7, 1996

Harry set down his book on Arithmancy as his wards detected a wizard. He had recently found a book on wards and had taken to them like a fish to water, and had been practicing by setting up an assortment of wards. The wizard had crossed Dumbledore's notice-me-not wards and the powerful anti-hostile-intent wards that he had only recently detected without triggering them. He went down to greet the wizard, and opened the door right when the wizard went to knock. _'Damn, I love seeing people's faces when I do that,'_ Harry thought, and voiced to the wizard, "Hello there. Please come in."

"Err… hello Harry. I'm, uh, here to buy you a wand and teach you to use it, because with You-Know-Who out there, you're not safe anywhere but Hogwarts."

Harry looked at the man; _'he seems nervous but… hopefull? Yes, that is definitely hope. Odd…'_ "Wonderful! I can't wait to do magic," Harry said cheerfully and asked for a name.

"Black. Sirius Black," Sirius paused for a moment before continuing, "I'm your godfather, Harry."

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again shortly. He eventually spoke in a dry voice, "My… godfather?"

"Yeah. I was your father's best mate."

"I have a magical godfather… but I grew up with the Dursleys."

Sirius spoke with a pained look, "I know it's no excuse Harry, but I was in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?"

"Wizarding prison. I had gone to hunt down the traitor that sold off your parents, but I failed and was framed for a murder I didn't commit."

"Huh. So about that wand..." Harry segued, not wanting to talk about the uncomfortable subject.

"Ah, right. Here, I'll apparate us into Diagon Alley."

"Wait a moment; I need to get dressed," Harry responded, as he went inside to put on a hat and a scarf and wizarding clothes so he wouldn't be recognized.

* * *

Ollivanders Wand Shop, Diagon Alley, Great Britain—July 7, 1996

"Please Sirius, be serious for a moment. Diagonally is a horrible pun and whoever came up with it deserves to be drawn and quartered."

"Firstly, Harry, I'm always serious. Secondly, it's not as bad as Knockturn Alley or Aesthetic Alley. Thirdly, we're here," Sirius finished as he opened the door to Ollivanders.

"Think about it, Sirius," Harry continued as he walked through the door, "Diagon Alley sounds like someone thought they were clever with their puns, and then someone else came along and used the same naming schema for the rest of the alleys. At least the other names correlate to what type of alley it is."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry. Obviously, it was named so because it is diagonal to Gringotts."

"Obliviously, more like," Harry muttered under his breath, and then nearly jumped out of his shoes when he heard an undetected presence behind him begin to speak.

"Sirius Black. Nine inches, cherry wood, unicorn hair core, swishy. Good for charms if I remember correctly, and I always do."

"Hah, Sirius, that is the girliest wand I have ever seen."

"Fuck you, Harry," Sirius responded, and muttered under his breath, "like father like son, the blighters…"

"Harry Potter," Ollivander spoke, as if he had just noticed the presence of the Boy-Who-Lived. "Finally come to get a wand, I see. Well come along, you haven't got all day."

Ollivander sifted through piles of wands, handing them to Harry and having him wave it. Each one responded strongly, but Ollivander kept shaking his head and tossing them away. He eventually reached for the one he had been keeping away, obviously for dramatic effect, and muttered, "I wonder, I wonder…" Harry, refusing to play along with the mad old wandmaker, just stood there, continuing to laugh at Sirius' wand. Ollivander glared at him and handed him the wand. Harry waved the wand, expecting the brilliant sparks every other wand had given off, and was pleasantly surprised when there was a sonic boom, all the glass shattered, and everything fell to the floor.

Ollivander and Sirius repaired the shop with a few_ Reparo_'s. Ollivander gazed at Harry triumphantly and then murmered, "Curious, curious. Curious that you should get the wand, when its brother gave you that scar."

Sirius paid the man and ushered Harry out of the shop before the creepy monologue could be finished. Sirius grabbed Harry for side-along apparition and warped them away.

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place, London, Great Britain—July 7, 1996

"Okay Harry, normally minors aren't allowed to do magic, but Dumbledore got you a permit. We'll start small, just take your wand and swish and flick it like this. Once you've got the movement down the motion down, point your wand at this cup at say '_Wingardium Leviosa'_."

"Wingardium Leviosa? That sounds ridiculous. I'll do it silently."

"Harry, silent casting is difi—" Sirius paused as he noticed the couch he was sitting on zooming around the room. "But you're a beginner…" Sirius muttered.

"It's the kickass wand, Sirius. If your wand wasn't lame you could do it too."

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place, London, Great Britain—July 25, 1996

"Hah! Finally, something you can't do," Sirius cheered, as a white wisp came out of Harry's wand.

"Oh woe is me, my evil godfather is cheering that I am not happy enough. I think I'll go cut myself."

"Chipper up, Harry. Maybe if you weren't so sarcastic all the time, you would be happier."

"Yeah, whatever, fuck you. Let's go duel some more if you're feeling so full of yourself."

"Any day of the week, chump," Sirius responded to the challenge.

* * *

Gaunt Shack, Little Hangleton, Great Britain—August 6, 1996

Dumbledore looked down at the ancient ring in his hand. He began to slip the ring on his finger, hoping to see his little sister once more, but stopped. _'No, I can't risk this. Forgive me, Ariana, but Harry needs my guidance. I'm so sorry...'_

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place, London, Great Britain—August 24, 1996

"Hey Harry, whatcha looking at?"

"O.W.L. results."

"Already? Damn, those came in quick. Let me see those," Sirius said as he snatched the paper out of Harry's hands.

"Ancient Runes: E. Notes: Translated perfectly, marked down for vulgarity. Really Harry?"

"In my defense, that proctor was an ass."

"Arithmancy: O. Notes: Bonus for pointing out error in official equation.

Care of Magical Creatures: E.

Charms: O. Notes: All charms done silently.

Defense Against the Dark Arts: E. Notes: Won duel but resorted to '_reducto'_ to defeat most creatures.

Herbology: E.

Potions: O. Notes: Successfully modified polyjuice potion.

Transfiguration: O. Notes: Performed permanent transfiguration. Damn, but you're a nerd."

"Fuck you Sirius. Did you even get any O.W.L.'s?"

"Four E's, two A's, and an O. But I bet you could've gotten twelve E's or O's if you had bothered to take every test."

"Keep telling yourself that, eh."

* * *

Platform 9, King's Cross Station, London, Great Britain—September 1, 1996

Harry looked at the wall before him, knowing stepping through it would finalize his introduction to the wizarding world. He let out a light chuckle and smoothly strolled through the barrier.

* * *

**A/N: This is my first story, so please review. It is set entirely in J.K.R.'s world, and all deviations are due to underdevelopment on her part or 'butterfly effect' on mine. Have a nice day.**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't support the concept of 'ownership', so I don't own Harry Potter. That is the only reason.

* * *

Harry strolled onto platform 9 ¾ casually, at least casually in the same way a peacock struts 'casually', exuding a light aura of magical power and looking every part the Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the wizarding world. He strolled past several groups of witches and wizards of all ages; a great deal of heads were turned, and a great deal of, "Merlin, is that Harry Potter?"'s were muttered. He calmly ignored the crowds and entered the Hogwarts Express.

As he strolled down the corridor to find an empty cabin, he bumped into a bushy-haired witch he hadn't noticed, knocking the witch and the trunk she had been lifting down to the ground, and causing what appeared to be potion ingredients to spill out. Harry bent down to give the witch a hand which she slapped away, saying, "Well, if you're going to stand around there at least help me pick these up."

"Ah, sorry about that," Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm H—"

"I don't care if you're He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or Harry bloody Potter. Just help me pick up these damned supplies before they denature," the witch said as she franticly cast preservation charms.

With a casual wave of Harry's wand, all the ingredients were back in their respective storage areas and the witch allowed Harry to lift her up. "Sorry about snapping at you like that," the witch said, noticeably calmer, "but I'm taking NEWT potions this year and 'Professor' Snape would likely kick me out of his class if I didn't have my supplies in perfect order."

"Sounds nasty. I'm taking NEWT potions this year too."

"Oh. Are you a seventh year? I don't recognize you."

"Nope; sixth. I'm a transfer student."

"Really? According to _Hogwarts: A History_ transfer students are really rare."

"Another way I'm great, I guess." Harry stuck out his hand to shake and said, "Nice to meet you, Ms…"

"Hermione. Hermione Granger," she responded as she shook his hand. "And you are?"

Harry released her hand and with a hefty bow said, "Harry bloody Potter, at your service."

…

"That's odd, Harry."

"Hmm?"

"That's the fifth group to come by looking for one 'Harry bloody Potter' and totally bypass our door."

"Wards are amazing, are they not? Setting up a mild notice-me-not in a place like this causes the doors to blend together perfectly."

"But wards are learned seventh year…"

"I might have done some reading ahead. Are you telling me you didn't?"

"Touché, sir. I've been focusing more on arithmancy though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah; I've been toying around with a modification of the protean charm for switching objects. I think I've got most of the math done, but it isn't quite working."

"Mind if I take a look?"

…

"This is somewhat surreal…"

"Huh?" Harry asked, confused.

"I'm sitting here, improving advanced arithmantic equations with Harry bloody Potter."

"In my defense, this is all very much like calculus, which they teach in muggle school."

"Not that, you dolt. The fact that a story book hero is the one here, sitting with me, doing calculus."

"Oh yeah. I am a man of many talents," Harry said with a suggestive wink.

"Shove it," Hermione responded with a smile. "You forgot to carry the three there…"

…

"Come on Harry."

"You go on ahead; I'm Harry bloody Potter; I can't enter like a civilian."

'_He's never going to let that go,'_ Hermione thought with a shake of her head as she walked towards the self-propelling carriages to meet up with Neville.

…

"Gryffindor!" The announced table and most of the teachers clapped for the final student to be sorted. Dumbledore eventually stood and the ruckus ended. "Before the traditional announces, we have one final, transfer student." Dumbledore threw out his hand and the door to the great hall opened. "Allow me to introduce one Mr. Harry b. Potter!"

Harry strolled into the great hall in full peacock form, hair blowing and teeth glinting. _'Beautiful flair for the dramatic Dumbledore, but my middle name is James…oh. Hah.' _Hermione covered her face, thoroughly mortified and Harry waved his wand at the tiny stool, transforming it into a comfortable black beanbag. He slumped down in his new seat, and put the hat on his head with a flourish.

_Hello Mr. Potter._

'_Hello. Sir Hatticus is it?'_

_My, my,_ the Hat continued, ignoring Harry, _You work hard, study harder, and are brave and ambitious. Where oh where to place you…_

'_You can't be seriously considering placing me in a background house. Come on mate, step it up.'_

_Yes, fine…Gryffindor or Slytherin, Slytherin or Gryffindor…_

'_Up for a coin flip?'_

_Nice try you luck-warping bastard. Oh my, you just tried to manipulate me. Better place you in_

"Slytherin!"

Most of the Slytherin table clapped politely, while the rest of the hall sat in shocked silence. As Harry sat down at his new table, and was subsequently clapped on the back by some blonde fellow, whispers broke out across the hall. He heard snippets of conversations such as: "Harry Potter, a snake?" and "No way; maybe the hat made a mistake," and "Maybe snakes aren't so bad…" The last one made him smirk; Dumbledore and the Ministry had been running a pro-Harry Potter campaign through the Daily Prophet ever since Voldemort (Harry had squeezed the name out of Sirius through liberal application of tickling charms after a victorious duel) had attacked the Ministry. It seemed to be working: to the public's eye, he could do nothing wrong.

The platinum blonde chap he was sitting next to began speaking, obviously deciding that Harry had had enough comfortable silence, and said, "Hey there. I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy. Prefect and Slytherin seeker."

Harry politely shook his hand before he realized, "Hey, do you have a relative that looks just like you, only older, taller, more elegant, and with longer hair?"

The slightly disgruntled Draco responded, "Err, yeah. My father, Lucius Malfoy, looks like that. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," 'Definitely not because he tried to sacrifice me to resurrect old Moldy Warts,' Harry thought, and continued out loud, "So Hogwarts, eh? Can you give me the general outline, I'm rather new to this whole magical world thing in general."

"Uh, sure. Welcome to Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was founded by the great wizards and witches Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Godric Gryffindor. It began as a school for those with blood untainted by muggles, but that damned fool Gryffindor let them in. It has steadily degraded from a great school of magical learning into a daycare for those with tainted blood, and yet many wish to continue spreading the taint, such as that fool of a headmaster, Albus Dumbledore." Draco stopped and took a deep breath.

"Huh. Sounds…bad?"

"Very bad," Draco assured him as they paused their conversation to listen to Dumbledore's start of the term speech.

"We are in dark times children, the darkest of times. Yet even with Voldemort back," he said, pausing to allow the gasps to die down, "we must have our mundane announcements. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has informed me that there are several new items on the banned list." With a twinkle in his eyes, he continued, "If you wish, you can see the full list in his office. The Forbidden Forest is, as ever, forbidden. As for staff changes, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Shacklebolt's, contract has expired. Taking his place will be the recently acquitted Professor Black."

Harry's head jerked towards the head table, and sure enough, Sirius was sitting there. As Harry watched, Sirius stood up and jets of trick magical flame shot up behind him. Harry noticed no one was clapping, and began doing so himself. Seeing Harry bloody Potter clapping vigorously for the convict, the rest of the hall followed suit.

The rest of the dinner went quietly, albeit deliciously, and Harry soon found himself following Draco down to the dungeons, where Draco assured him their common room was. Harry wasn't so sure that Draco wasn't trying to take him down to the dungeons for nefarious, evil, death eater purposes, but he kept quiet. They stopped at a blank wall; Draco faced it and said _callidus_. The wall slid open and they entered the common room. _'This is very not-dungeony. Why do I feel disappointed?'_

As they walked through the entrance Draco said, "The first password of each term is always callidus. It means cunning in Latin. The password changes twice a month."

"Gotcha. So do we sleep in dorms?"

"Hah, no. Upper year Slytherins get their own rooms. Those Gryffindorks on the other hand…"

"What's up with the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor anyways?" Harry asked. He already knew, it was obvious, he just wanted to hear Draco's take on it.

"Just contrasting ideals. Pretty simple. Also, they're idiots." At Harry's raised eyebrow, Draco continued, "For example, had you asked a Gryffindor that same question, they would've given you something along the lines of 'Those Slytherin's are slimy, evil, bastards. You can't trust 'em.' Case in point."

"Case in point," Harry repeated after him.

…

A few minutes later the rest of the Slytherins poured in to the common room, with several of them sitting around Draco. Draco waved his hand and said, "Allow me to introduce you to the rest of our motley cast." Draco pointed at each individual sitting around him and gave of their names, finishing with the fellow farthest away from Draco, Blaise Zabini.

"And the two standing behind us?"

"Oh."He had obviously forgotten his minions were standing there. "That's Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Need something done by a brute and they're your men."

"Uh huh… Well it's a pleasure to meet all of you. In case you didn't know, I'm Harry Potter."

Blaise feigning surprise, exclaimed, "My word! You're Harry Potter? Extraordinary…"

"Oh shove it, Blaise," Draco responded with a smile.`

…

After several hours of talking to and getting to know the group consisting of Draco, Blaise, Vince, Greg, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Milicent Bulstrode, Theodore Nott, and Tracy Davis, an angry looking man stalked into the common room. "Lights out," he all but snarled, and turned to Harry and said, "Potter, if you think you're above the rules here, you're in for a big surprise," whirled around and stalked back out of the common room, cloak billowing.

As Harry and Draco walked down the passageway towards their rooms, Harry asked who the man was.

"That was Severus Snape, he of the alliterative trend, Potions professor and Head of Slytherin," came Draco's response.

"Err, alliterative trend?"

"Well, we in Slytherin maintain that if your name has alliteration, the barmy old coot Bumblemore is more likely to hire you."

"Huh. And why was Snape's hair pink?"

"No clue," Draco responded as he went into his room, "But I bet that's why he was so mad."

* * *

Harry awoke at his typical five AM and began his morning ritual by rolling onto the floor to do fifty pushups to wake his body up. He then conjured a mat which he sat cross-legged 3 inches above, meditating for an hour. He figured he looked like a kick-ass Buddhist monk if he levitated while he meditated. Once done meditating, he put on some muggle running clothes and took off, taking his morning jog as an opportunity to explore the grounds.

…

Deciding to explore the emphatically forbidden forest later, he instead jogged up to the lake. He conjured a clothespin and put it on his nose and took a small plastic tube out of his pocket. The tube was a bit of magic he was particularly proud of; it had a localized transfiguration field that changed anything that passed through it into oxygen. It also magically sealed lips it was placed into and locked itself in place. Harry placed the tube in his mouth, cast a darkvision charm, and dove into the lake.

…

Harry blasted what he figured was the fifteenth grindylow, and continued swimming, starting to get irritated. Another appeared from behind some kelp near the lakebed and Harry, tired of the little pests, let loose a blast of raw magical power, vaporizing the grindylow, the water surrounding the grindylow, and a dozen feet of sand beneath the grindylow. _'That better keep those fuckers away. Hey, what's that?'_ he asked himself, noticing that his blast had unearthed some metal. He swam down and looked at what appeared to be a giant rusty old pipe, memorized the position, and covered the pipe back up with conjured sand. He would've followed the pipe, but a quick _tempus_ had revealed that it was 7:15 and he had to get back.

Harry swim back up to the surface was uneventful, and he soon found himself back on the shore. He dried himself off, _reparo'd_ that cuts in his clothes the grindylows had made, and jogged back to the castle.

...

On his walk back to the dungeons Harry encountered Sirius strolling along, whistling out of tune. "You!" Harry shouted at him.

"Me?" Sirius shouted back, feigning confusion.

"You're a Professor and you didn't tell me!"

"And you're a Slytherin and you didn't tell me! Here I am, thinking my godson is a nice, happy, not evil fellow, while in reality he is and he's just been hiding it from me this whole time!"

"Fuck off, Sirius."

Instead of taking Harry's advice, he continued, unrepentant, "Am I really so bad of a godfather that my beloved godson had to stay in the figurative closet and hide himself from me?"

"Seriously, fuck off, Sirius."

"I'm always serious Harry, you should know that. And what's more, I don't know whether to show favoritism or takes points away for you being a snake. I'm so confused and anguished…" Sirius finished, collapsing onto the floor, clutching his heart.

"Done with the melodrama, prick?"

"Oh you wound me so," Sirius moaned from the floor. "I even went to the extent of pinking Snivellus as a welcoming present to you, and this is the thanks I get."

"Hah, that was you?" Harry asked as he helped his godfather up off the ground. "Damn, but he was pissed."

"Yeah, he always hated it when we did something to his hair. I think it looks better this way; the grease is less apparent."

"Oh shit, he was the one you and James picked on?"

"The main one, yeah. James hated the bastard from the bottom of his heart."

"Fuck…I'm so doomed. He hates me, I can tell. God damn it Sirius, you were fucking with me before I was even born," Harry finished with a smile.

"I try Harry, I try. Now go take a shower, you look like you lost a fight with a lake."

"You should see the other guy," Harry said as he walked off towards his common room.

…

Twenty minutes and one shower later, Harry found himself walking into the Slytherin common room, and encountered Draco there waiting for him. Draco greeted him and they walked together to the great hall, with Vince and Greg trailing behind. "So Harry," Draco began ominously as they walked, "You managed to evade all questions about your past last night, and for that I commend you. But I must ask, how and where did you learn magic?"

"Dumbledore sent me some textbooks and I taught myself the rest."

"No formalized schooling?"

"Huh? No, I went to a muggle school."

"Oh," Draco responded, obviously uncaring about anything muggle. "So did you take the O.W.L.'s?"

"Yeah. I got E's or O's in Defense, Transfiguration, Runes, Charms, Arithmancy, Potions, and Herbology."

Draco let out a low whistle and said, "And you self-taught all that? Nice…"

"How 'bout you?"

"Pretty similar actually: E's or O's in Astronomy, Defense, Charms, Arithmancy, Potions, Herbology, and Divination."

"Divination? Really?"

"Yeah, but it was a total joke. They asked us to look into a crystal ball and tell what we saw. I saw a bunch of fog and said to them something along the lines of _'The fog…is clearing…I see a glowing green snake…it is…lunging forward…it has reached something…something obscured…it bites down…and…the fog…returns.'_ I was struggling to keep a straight face the whole time and was bluffing out my ass and still got an E."

"Hah..."

…

As they walked around the final corner before the Great Hall, they heard an exasperated, "Oh shove off, you buck-toothed bint," and encountered some red-headed git pushing Hermione away. Harry caught her with a wave of his wand before she could fall (to Draco's irritation) and turned to the red-head, saying, "Now that wasn't very nice…"

"Who do you think you are, you filthy snake," the fellow questioned, having caught Draco in his peripherals but not Harry, "Interfering in Gryffindor affairs like that. I oughta…Blimey! You're Harry Potter!" he exclaimed, finally noticing whom he was insulting.

"Am I really? Maybe I'm just a metamorphmagus. We can't be sure…"

"Uh huh. I'm Ron Weasley," Ron said, and made to shake Harry's hand.

Harry brushed past the offered hand and walked up to Hermione, whom he was still absentmindedly holding in place, tilted at about a 20 degree angle. "My, you look all bent out of shape this morning," Harry said with a grin as he released Hermione.

"Oh, hah hah. I bet you were waiting that whole time to make that joke, weren't you?"

"Guilty as charged," Harry said as he led her into the Great Hall, leaving a flummoxed Ron and Draco behind.

* * *

Dumbledore paused his benevolent gazing for a moment, and instead looked towards the doors to the hall, where the enigmatic Boy-Who-Lived was entering. Dumbledore had received nothing but glowing reports from Sirius and Remus during their training of Harry, and they both saw a great parallel between him and James. Dumbledore had been worried upon Harry's quick sorting into Slytherin, noticing instead a parallel between Harry and another, more malevolent, wizard. His worries were appeased, at least to some extent, upon seeing Harry walking through the doors, chatting and laughing not with Draco Malfoy, but with Hermione Granger._ 'Young Hermione will undoubtedly be an excellent influence on Harry,'_ Dumbledore thought as he returned to his benevolent gazing.

* * *

Having dropped Hermione off at the Gryffindor table, Harry walked over to the Slytherins, and sat down next to a perturbed Draco. After a bit of uncomfortable silence Draco spoke up, "Hey Harry, you know she's a mudblood, right?"

"I figured so. Why do you ask?"

"Err," Draco paused, trying to find a way to phrase it for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and eventually continued unabashed, "Well hanging out with their type is bad for your image."

"Two things," Harry said as he focused on chasing his bacon around his plate. "Firstly, I'm an icon for the Light and all that tosh; it's better for my image to be nice to mudbloods. Secondly, I'm Harry bloody Potter; I do what I want."

Draco sighed and muttered, "How'd I know you'd say something like that…"

Harry shrugged in response and began eating his breakfast.

…

Half an hour later, after a breakfast composed solely of things that would make a health nut have a fit, the sixth year Slytherins went down to Snape's office in order to decide on their schedules. They stood outside of Snape's office as they were called in alphabetically. Well, most of them stood; Harry slumped down on a conjured black beanbag. Eventually, a "Potter" was sneered and Harry entered the office.

Harry looked around the room, somewhat awed by the sheer volume of creepy things in jars. There was a range of pickled creatures, from cockroaches, to a woolly mammoth head, to a human baby. While gazing about the jars, he noticed a grindylow and mentally raised Snape up a notch. Harry sat down in the chair across from Snape's desk and said, "Nice place you've got here…"

"Spare me your drivel, Potter." Snape waved at the papers on the desk in front of Harry, and said, "That there is a list of all courses you are eligible to take. Circle the ones you are interested in and leave my office."

"So you're the Potions Professor?" Harry asked, feeling brave.

"I am. I'm thoroughly amazed that you qualified for my NEWT potions. I suppose the standards for O.W.L.'s have gone down."

"Well, regardless the reason, I'm always happy to spread amazement," Harry said with a grin as he finished circling his courses.

"Take your arrogance out of my office, Potter. We're done here."

…

Harry met Draco outside the office, and Draco feigned astonishment the whole walk to Charms, their first class of the day. Eventually Harry gave in and said, "Ok, you win. I survived being in a room with Snape. Very funny, haha."

"Oh, quit being such a sod, Harry," Draco grumbled as they entered the class.

…

Flitwick, standing on his chair behind his desk, raised his eyebrows as he called out, "Harry Potter", but made no further reaction. Upon finishing the roll call, he began speaking, "Welcome to the sixth year Slytherin and Ravenclaw class of charms. You have all obtained at least an Exceeds Expectations on you Charms O.W.L. and are in this class to prepare for NEWT's. We shall spend the first few weeks completing basic charm work, and then go on to more advanced or uncommon Charms. Today we shall be working on using the summoning and banishment charms in tandem, as an example of using simple charms used for complicated effects." With a wave of his wand, Flitwick conjured several rubber balls onto each table and said, "You will try to banish the ball while your partner summons it. The instructions for the spells are on the board."

Harry shrugged and tossed a ball out in front of him, pointed his wand at is, and murmured "_Depulso"._ Draco waved his wand at the ball zooming away from them and said, "_Accio"_. Harry gradually strengthened his banishing Charm, and Draco had to summon the ball harder. The ball, which was floating a few feet in front of their desk, jittering in place, suddenly zoomed towards Draco, walloping him in the chest.

"You prat," Draco wheezed, "You did that on purpose."

Harry just cheekily grinned at him, and grabbed another ball, tossed it out in front of him and used his wand to summon the ball and banish it before it reached his hand. Flitwick noticed Harry's feat of magic and approached, saying, "Very good Mr. Potter; perfect control and all silently. Do you think you could add in a levitation charm?" Flitwick asked, and in response, the ball's path became elliptical.

"Very impressive, Mr. Potter. Take ten points for Slytherin for that excellent display. Your mother was just as brilliant at Charms, you know."

"Oh? Cool."

Flitwick nodded and walked away. Draco muttered, "Show-off," to which Harry responded to by banishing a ball at Draco. Draco banished it back and they began a game of keeping the other from blasting them in the face.

…

"So do you have Arithmancy next?"

"Yeah," Draco grumbled, and waved at Blaise, saying, "Blaise does too."

Harry nodded at Blaise and went back to chucking at Draco's black-eye. Draco glared at Harry and stalked off ahead, leaving Harry alone with Blaise, who gestured at Harry, saying, "After you…"

"I have no idea where the classroom is."

"The great Harry Potter doesn't know where to go? My fairy tale…it's crumbling. Everything I know is a lie."

"Hah, yeah, don't worry," Harry said as he activated some minor luck manipulation, "The great Harry Potter will lead the way!" and whirled around and pompously walked off in a random direction, different from where Draco went.

…

"Huh. That tapestry was on the second floor, and we walked down a flat hallway to get to the Arithmancy room on the seventh."

"Never underestimate Harry Potter," Harry said with a wink, and sat down next to Hermione, who was unpacking her bag. "So, make any progress?" he asked.

"A bit," Hermione admitted, and pulled out two identical rocks with rectangular holes in them and a third rock with a rectangular block sticking out of it that matched the holes. The two identical rocks were differentiated only in that one had some blue paint on the top and the other, red. She dipped the rectangular block in what Harry identified as dragon's blood, and stuck the block in the in the hole of the blue marked stone. There was a dull flash and suddenly it was the red marked rock she was holding in her hand and the blue one sitting off to the side where the red one was previously.

Harry raised his eyebrows and commented, "Impressive."

"Not really. I just took some shortcuts in the equation and now it switches them, but the objects need to be of the same mass."

"Still, getting something to work is always great. What's the range limit?"

"It depends on how much dragon's blood is used, I think. I haven't tested it much as I don't want it to explode in my hands."

Harry nodded, understanding experimental danger, and began looking through Hermione's several pages of work. Over the next several minutes the rest of the class gradually came in; Draco walked up and sat next to Blaise, looking confused at their early presence. Once all the students were seated, Professor Vector came in, and said, "Welcome to Advanced Arithmancy Studies. As you know, I am Professor Vector. We will begin with a quiz to determine your level of competence in Arithmancy; this is a NEWT course and I will not tolerate any slackers," and handed out a quiz.

Harry looked down at the quiz before him. It was mostly Algebra and Trigonometry, along with some magical theory and basic Calculus. He shrugged and easily filled out the quiz, using his ball-point pen that he had put an illusion on to make look like a quill. He set his 'quill' down and closed his eyes, having decided to meditate while he waited.

…

Harry dove deep into his mind, searching for the place he had shoved the memories that came along with his little evil implant. He was always circumspect about viewing these memories, as he has encountered one too many brutal murders, but he knew that if he kept digging he would inevitably find useful tidbits, and he had already stolen some magical prowess.

…

Harry found himself standing in front of a giant statue of an ugly man, and hissing, _"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."_ The area began to rumble and hiss, _"Harry, Harry!" 'Why is this memory shouting my name? Wait, that sounded like Hermione. I guess the quiz is over,'_ Harry thought as he roused himself.

"Mr. Potter, so kind of you to join us," Vector commented coolly, "But precisely why were you sleeping in my class?"

"Ah, sorry Professor, I was just organizing my thoughts and kinda fell asleep," Harry lied through his teeth as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.

"See to it that it doesn't happen again. As I said before, I do not tolerate slackers. Five points from Slytherin," Vector admonished, before walking up to the blackboard to give a lecture. Draco grinned at Harry, who gave him the one finger salute in response.

…

"Hey Hermione," Harry commented as they walked down to the Great Hall for lunch, "Do you realize that we're being taught maths by Vector."

"Yes Harry," Hermione responded patronizingly.

"Come on Hermione. Our maths professor's name is a maths term."

"Oh. Huh."

"Yeah. Draco maintains that Dumbledore is more likely to hire Professors with kooky names. I'm starting to agree. Or maybe wizards are just terrible at names…"

"Why do you hang out with him, anyways?" Hermione asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"Huh?"

"Draco Malfoy. Blonde haired git. Often seen with you."

"Oh. Well, why not?"

"Well, as previously established, he's a git. He's also a supporter of You-Know-Who—"

Harry interrupted her by fake coughing and muttering Voldemort and was whacked on the head for his trouble.

"As I was saying, his family is in deep with the Death Eaters and they're all major Pureblood supremacists."

"So?"

"He's a bad person, Harry," Hermione responded, exasperated.

"I refuse to call someone a bad person just because of their orientation. That's very close-minded of you, Hermione," and gave her an 'I expected better from you' look.

"You're impossible," Hermione said and huffed off away from Harry into the Great Hall. Harry saw her sit next to Neville and muttered to himself, "What did she say that guy's name was? Longbottom I think." He sat down next to Draco and asked if the Longbottoms were purebloods, pausing midway to chuckle.

"Yeah, they're purebloods. Blood traitors, but still purebloods. Why?"

"I think you're wrong about Dumbledore's hiring process. Wizards just have ridiculous names."

…

"This class is going to be great," Harry commented, grinning as he strolled along with Draco.

"Eh, it's a double period with the Gryffindors. And if I remember correctly, Black was a lion. I bet it's going to be miserable."

"Oh lighten up. And don't you mean Professor Black?" Harry asked with a snicker, as he opened the doors to the room. "Well a word of advice: when dealing with Professor Black *snicker*, expect the unexpected."

* * *

**A/N: Hello there. Thanks for all the positive responses! They really do motivate me to write, and I hope I can live up to all your expectations. This chapter is shorter than I plan for most of them to be(5 thousand instead of 6-7 thousand), but I wanted to cut this off before Sirius' class. The next chapter will be more actiony, probably. Just by the way, I don't plan to include any bashing of anyone but maybe Ron, but in my defense, he's a git, and even then it won't be exaggerated. Have a nice day**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I used to own Harry Potter, but then I…

* * *

Harry and Draco entered Sirius' class and walked down to the far end of the class, where the rest of the sixth year Slytherins were sitting. Harry saw Hermione and waved to her, but passed her in order to be where he knew the action would be focused. He sat down in the back, with Draco on his left, and Vince and Crabbe in front of him, acting as unknowing meatshields. The rest of the students filed in over the next few minutes, with the lions sitting near the door and the 'claws and 'puffs in between. Eventually, everyone was seated, but Sirius was not there. There were widespread mutters of, "The Professor is late on his first day?" and, "Damn, I had hoped that this'd be another good professor…". A few lions started playing Gobstones, and eventually a Hufflepuff Harry didn't know tried to get up to leave. The unnamed Hufflepuff, still sitting in his chair, exclaimed, "I can't get out of my seat! I'm stuck."

Every student save Harry and Blaise, who was on Harry's right and had seen how uncaring he was about the stickening, tried to stand, and found that they were also stuck. Harry, instead of trying to stand, was gazing around the room, sure he had seen something. Having seen the humor in the situation, Draco commented, "Hah, Longbottom looks like he's about to have a panic attack."

Upon Draco finishing his comment, there was a blinding flash of green light, and a few of what Harry assumed were female Hufflepuffs screamed. The windows slammed shut, leaving a few measly candles to illuminate the room, and a sourceless voice rang out, speaking in an inhumanly deep voice, "Welcome to the NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts course. You have had five years of experience in this class, and yet if I had been a dark wizard, you would all be dead. The chairs, instead of sticking to you, would stick in to you, with vicious spikes," Harry grinned, unsurprised that Sirius was unable to go one menacing monologue without cracking a joke, and the voice continued, "Instead of there being a mild itching powder spread out on the tables, they would be coated in Bloodroot Poison, deadly to the touch. All of you have been brought here to me with the tools to defeat a dark wizard, but with a complete lack of competence, competence that will have to be whipped into you. In my class you will learn legitimate safety procedures against assassinations and gain dueling experience. You will also improve your understanding of the dark magic that you can expect to be used against you; You-Know-Who is back, after all," Sirius finished, canceling his Disillusionment Charm and opening the windows, revealing him sitting behind his desk with his feet up. "Any questions?" he asked in his normal voice.

Hermione's hand shot up, and Sirius lazily waved at her, causing her to nervously exclaim, "But Professor Black, the syllabus says we'll be focusing on advanced dark creatures and magic, not duel—"

"Ms. Granger," Sirius interrupted, "I am afraid you have the old syllabus. The one that was in place when we weren't at war," he said, looking at her sternly. He then fished through his desk and levitated the new syllabus over to her.

Hermione moaned fretfully about having wasted studying, and Blaise raised his hand, asking, "Professor, why learn to duel if real enemies fight differently?"

Sirius grinned and responded, "I'm glad you asked. You'll be learning how to duel freeform, as in actual combat. In a battle there will be no rules, and no honour. Have any of you been in a freeform duel?"

As Sirius expected, Harry was the only one to raise his hand. "Well then, Mr. Potter," Sirius said, mock seriously, "Would you be willing to help me give a demonstration?"

Harry acted as if he were mulling it over, before finally nodding and standing up out of his chair and walking up to Sirius. Sirius tossed Harry four intricately etched stones, and Harry levitated each stone over to a corner, making a rectangle with a stone where the floor and ceiling met the walls. He then tapped each stone with his wand and a magical force field appeared, isolating Harry and Sirius. Sirius, meanwhile, cast an expansion charm on the walls, conjured debris, and cast protective charms on everything he didn't want destroyed. Sirius walked up to the barrier and spoke, "As you can see, Mr. Potter has set up a protective warding, while I have set up the battlefield. In a freeform duel," Sirius said as he dove out of the way of a stunner Harry had fired at his back, "Physical dodging is more important than magical blocking, and as I said before," Sirius paused to fire a Blasting Curse at Harry's feet, "There are no rules.

Harry made a magically reinforced jump and conjured a stone platform beneath him to block the blast. Sirius cast a _reducto_ at the platform Harry was levitating on and Harry leapt off. While Harry was still in the air, Sirius cast a burst of fire at Harry, which Harry absorbed with an overpowered _augmenti_. Harry followed up with a Leg-Locker Jinx on the unbalanced Sirius, who managed a basic _protego _at the last instant. Harry began chaining various curses, but Sirius managed to get up a more powerful shield. Sirius, seeing an opening in Harry's chain, dropped his shield and summoned Harry's wand. Not wanting to excessively disturb Sirius' first lesson, Harry let him get away with the cheap victory.

Sirius turned away from the disarmed Harry and spoke to the class, "Typically, when a wizard is disarmed, they will be ignored, and their opponent will assume they are defenseless—" Harry, hearing what he decided was his cue, tackled Sirius from behind and put him in a headlock. Sirius continued from the floor, "But a wizard is not defeated in a freeform duel until they are dead, unconscious, or otherwise debilitating incapacitated." Harry helped Sirius up and they quickly tidied up the battle area. Harry returned to his seat and Sirius sat back down at his desk, raising an eyebrow at the silence of the class.

Eventually, Ron, ever the endless bastion of wisdom, broke the silence, saying, "That was bloody brilliant!"

…

After a bit of lecturing, Sirius said, "Your first assignment is to write nine inches on various poisons, their indicators, and their counters." Sirius set a box of bezoars on his desk, saying, "Take a bezoar on your way out. You are expected to carry one of them with you wherever you go, and have it be easily accessible." Sirius then got up and walked out of the class, heading down to dinner, and Harry followed, winking to Hermione on the way.

"That git," Draco said after they had left, "Leaving us stuck here like that…"

...

"Nice trick, Sirius," Harry said as they walked down to the Great Hall.

"Hmm?"

"Using me to make your class kick-ass."

"Hah right," Sirius said, grinning, "No, my original class plan needed to be toned down, so I decided to include you in it."

"Pshh. Hey, did the Marauders ever explore the lake?"

"Only a little. We snuck into the merpeople village once and saturated the water with veritaserum. Watching people be honest to each other in another language is hilarious."

"Heh. Anyways, I was exploring the lake this morning and I found a giant old rusty pipe buried underground. You game for tonight or are you feeling too old?"

"I'm always game, you cheeky little bugger. Maybe it's for the Slytherin restrooms; your common room is down there."

"I hope not. Meet outside after dinner?"

"After dinner," Sirius concurred.

…

"God damnit Blaise," Draco grumbled as he and Blaise sat down next to Harry twenty minutes later, "I still can't believe you weren't stuck ."

"Blaise wasn't stuck?"

"Apparently, he disillusioned himself during the lecture, shrugged out of his robes, and conjured some new ones."

"Nice," Harry said, giving Blaise a high-five over Draco's head.

Blaise nodded at Harry and asked, "How did you get unstuck so easily?"

"Charmed robes."

"Oh? Mine were charmed too but they still got stuck."

"You didn't get the great Harry Potter to charm them for you, though," Harry said, smiling.

"I suppose not," Blaise responded. "Just to let you know, Draco is sulking because his robes are expensive and he can't figure out how to remove the chair seat."

"He didn't get it off?"

Draco glared at Blaise, saying, "I can talk for myself, you know. And for the record, most students couldn't remove it; they just cut off the rest of the chair and walked down here. At least I transfigured it to look like my robes."

"I know a guy who might be able to get it off," Harry said, "But his services don't come cheap."

"I'll give you five Galleons, Harry," Draco responded, refusing to play along.

'_You have five large Spanish ships to give away?' _Harry thought, but instead voiced, "No deal. He says you have to be nice to mudbloods for a whole week and he won't settle for anything less."

Draco rolled his eyes and responded, "Yeah sure, whatever. Just fix my robes."

…

Harry, having noticed Sirius leave a few minutes ago, got up, claiming to need to use the loo. On his way out, he passed Hermione, who asked where he was going.

"Hermione, just the person I was looking for," Harry said, acting on a spur of the moment decision. "How would you like to go on an adventure?"

"An adventure? Are you going to be breaking the rules?"

'_Probably, but Sirius is a professor so that makes it ok, right?'_ "Probably not," He said, and asked, "Do I look like the kind of person that would defy authority like that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and acceded, saying, "I guess I'll come. You need someone to keep you out of trouble, after all."

"Oh you have no idea," Harry responded as they walked off.

…

"Heya H—" Sirius said upon seeing Harry, by paused upon noticing Hermione. "Hello Mr. Potter," Sirius continued, "Did you finish what you were working on?"

"Oh, sod off Sirius. Hermione's coming with us."

"You work fast, kid," Sirius said, winking. "It took James years to get Lily to come with us for once."

"Professor Black," Hermione asked, confused, "What's going on?"

"Call me Sirius, Ms. Granger. To answer your question, we are going on an underwater exploration venture."

"And, erm, Dumbledore supports it?"

"Ah," Sirius said, rubbing the back of his head, "Probably?"

…

"We're swimming in Black Lake at night?"

"Got it in one, Ms. Granger."

"How are we going to breathe? Bubble-Head Charms?"

Harry smiled and handed her one of his breathing apparatuses, saying, "You aren't the only one who does Arithmancy projects. Pop this in your mouth and it'll stay there, converting water to air." He then cast a few warming charms on himself, conjured flippers, transfigured his robes into a wetsuit, put the tube in his mouth, and dove off the pier into the lake. Sirius followed suit, leaving Hermione standing alone in the darkness. She muttered to herself, "I guess adventures are my punishment for being friends with The-Boy-Who-Lived," did her own preparations, and dove in. She saw a nearby light and swam towards it, quickly reaching Harry and Sirius, who had been waiting for her. Harry gestured on ahead and swam off.

…

Hermione continued following the Troublesome Two, as she had begun thinking of them, mildly bemused by all the grindylows that would approach, see Harry, and dart away. Harry paused at the lakebed, and, using a Ventriloquism Charm to be heard, said, "Ok the pipe is buried here." Harry and Sirius gradually blasted away the dirt, while Hermione watched. Eventually, the pipe was revealed, and Sirius waved his wand at it. Nothing happened and Sirius, using the same charm as Harry, said, "Damn, It's resistant to transfigurations."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Harry asked as he too waved his wand at the pipe, successfully turning it into glass, "It means it's more important than sewage."

Sirius looked in, and in a garbled, nonmagical voice, muttered, "I still don't get how you do that..." Sirius reported that it looked like the inside of a pipe and that he couldn't see where it led.

"So are we going to follow the pipe to an opening?" Hermione asked.

"Psh, we're wizards, we do things the easy way," Harry said, and while Harry was speaking, Sirius conjured a watertight glass dome around them and the pipe, and then transfigured the water around them into air. Harry blasted a hole into the pipe and stepped in, turning around to offer a hand to Hermione.

"So gentlemanly, Harry," Sirius mused. "Even on an adventure into the unknown, you're still helping the damsel."

"Well I am quite the hero," Harry replied, running a hand through his hair. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked down the tunnel, saying that she noted a slight slope. Sirius hopped in through the hole, and, as he whined about Harry not helping him in, led the group down the slope.

…

"Why'd you stop, Sirius?"

"There's something up ahead. It doesn't look dangerous, maybe it's just trash."

Harry cast an Eaglevision Charm on himself, and looked ahead at what Sirius was talking about. He grinned and said, "That's no trash. This just got exciting." Harry refused to say any more, and when the group reached the 'trash' Sirius started grinning as much as Harry and Hermione let out a loud gasp.

"Th-That must be seventy feet…" she stuttered.

"I know. Isn't it great?"

"Great? Are you out of your mind? The only snakes that get that large are basilisks! Basilisks! We're in a tunnel complex with a basilisk…"

"Done with your panic attack, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione turned towards Sirius and began berating him, exclaiming, "And you! You're supposed to be a professor who keeps us safe, but you brought us down to see a giant basilisk!"

Deciding to help out his godfather, despite thinking it was hilarious, Harry said, "Don't worry, Hermione. You've got Harry bloody Potter here to protect you!"

She let out a loud sigh and let her arms fall, saying, "I give up. You're incorrigible, both of you. This is idiotic, but I'm going to let you do it. I guess it falls upon me to be the responsible adult and stop you both from dying."

"You are too kind, Ms. Granger. Now we must be going: the adventure will wait no more!" Sirius proclaimed, and marched past the skin.

…

"And that, Harry, that is another brick."

"God damnit, Sirius…" Harry mumbled as they continued walking down the tunnel.

…

"Hey look, a stone. It's mysteriously out of place…"

"I get it, Sirius. It was a brick and not a pressure plate…"

…

"Hey look Harry, another brick."

…

"Woah…"

"If this is another brick— Woah…"

"Are you two done being idiots?" Hermione asked from behind, seeing both Harry and Sirius halted.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said, "What do you make of this?"

Hermione walked past the Troublesome Two, and into the menacing hallway ahead of them. There were large stone snake heads lining the hallway they had reached, each with a flickering torch in its maw. The hallway led on ahead out of sight. "Of course; why not? Why wouldn't you two stumble upon the bloody Chamber of Secrets…" she groaned.

"Damn Harry, nice job. In seven years we never found this place," Sirius said, patting Harry on the back.

"Uh huh. I know I'm great and all, but what exactly is the Chamber of Secrets? Any loot to be found?"

Sirius, seeing Hermione about to enter a monologue, speedily interjected, "Slytherin hid a monster underground, hoping for it to kill muggleborns."

"Oh, fine, just knock the wind out of my sails…" Hermione muttered.

"So this monster is a giant, thousand year old basilisk? Cool."

"Very cool." Sirius agreed. "So what're we going to do from here?"

Hermione muttered, "Whatever it is, I bet it isn't going to Dumbledore and getting a squad of aurors to kill the basilisk."

"Right you are, Hermione. We are, of course, going to continue exploration. I'll be running a detection charm, so we can walk with our eyes uncovered for now."

…

"Does this face look familiar to anyone else?" Harry asked, and was responded with a "nope" and an exasperated "Obviously its Salazaar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. His picture is in _Hogwarts: A History._"

'_Oh yeah; Voldy was here. What was it he said? Uh,'_ Harry continued his train of thought verbally, hissing, _"Speak to me Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four."_

Nothing happened save Hermione and Sirius' heads whipping towards Harry, both of them asking "You're a parseltongue?"

"I'm also a frenchtongue. What's your point?"

Sirius didn't really care, but Hermione began sputtering and was cut short by a very deep hiss, saying, to Harry's ears only, _"Who disturbs my slumber?"_

"_I do. I am Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, defeater of Voldemort."_

"_Voldemort…That was what the Last Heir called himself. You claim to have slain the Last?"_

"_Not slain, merely defeated,"_ Harry responded truthfully, knowing better than to lie to such an ancient creature, _'He is weakened, but still far from the death he fears."_

"_Yes…You speak well, young snake. You may enter. Alone,'_ the basilisk hissed, and a small door to the side of the head opened.

"It says I can enter, but I have to be alone," Harry said as he walked towards the door.

"You know this is suicidal, right Harry?"

Harry waved behind him as he entered the door, and the last thing Sirius and Hermione heard before the door slammed shut, disappearing from view, was a carefree, "I'll be fine."

Sirius and Hermione looked at each other, and voiced the summation of their feelings in synchronization. "Fuck."

...

Harry was walking down the corridor with his eyes closed, using an echolocation charm to avoid walking into a wall. The giant snake hissed, _"Walk freely, speaker; I mean you no harm. Yet."_

Harry opened his eyes and found that he was in a stone corridor with silver veins running through the walls, and glowing emeralds mounted in scones, illuminating the way. He paused at the entrance to a large circular chamber with tomes, artifacts, emeralds, gold, and silver scattered about. More importantly, at least presently, was the enormous basilisk curled up in the center of the room, facing Harry with its eyes closed. The snake's tongue shot out, tasting the air, and she spoke, hissing, _"Approach, speaker. Allow me to smell you."_

As Harry approached, the coils shifted, clearing a path to the basilisk's head. Harry stopped several feet away from the snakes head, and the forked tongue shot out once more. Harry knew he was being judged, but he was fairly confident that he could escape if need be.

"_You reek of arrogance, youngling."_

"_Arrogance well deserved."_

"_Deserved arrogance, you say?"_ Harry could swear saw the snake grinning, as it continued, _"You seem so like Salazaar, and yet you are not of the blood."_

"_One does not need blood for power,"_ Harry responded, hoping he was saying the right thing to the snake.

The basilisk let out a wordless hiss, and raised its head so that it was several feet above Harry. It then blindly looked down upon him, saying, _"Only those of Salazaar's blood have the power to look into these eyes. You claim to possess power without blood? Well then look upon them and…demonstrate this power.'_

Harry stood stoic, unblinking as the mammoth snake slowly unlidded her eyes. Harry looked through his spectacles into the deadly gaze, and was still.

* * *

"He's dead. I know it," Hermione moaned, clutching her head between her hands.

"Fuck, maybe he is. Well if anyone asks, he was eaten by grindylows."

"Bollocks to that, Sirius. I refuse to have such a shitty death. Make it, ah, eaten by evil unicorns. Fuck grindylows," Harry said as he walked through the door, tossing a crown on Sirius' head.

"Gotcha Harry. And I took this crown off of the head of the evil unicorn king that killed you?"

Hermione's eyes had widened by the presence of a living Harry, and she almost went to hug him, but was stopped by the non sequitur conversation. She instead rolled her eyes and voiced, "Of course a giant basilisk couldn't kill you. Why would it be able to…"

Sirius grabbed the crown sitting on his crown and took a good look at it. It was made of gold with silver trim and was gaudily decorated with giant emeralds. He whistled and said, "This is a really fucking old crown. So how'd you get it? Pull a Bilbo?"

"No, much better. I beat the basilisk in a stare-off, and according to ancient basilisk tradition, the loser of any stare-off must cooperate with the victor," Harry said, winking.

Hermione whacked him the shoulder and said, "No, really. How did you steal something from a conscious basilisk?"

"Well, honestly, it acknowledged the awesomeness that is Harry bloody Potter, let me take it, and then welcomed me back for tea." In reality, the snake had told Harry that he might be a worthy successor to Salazaar (after Harry had used his charmed glasses to resist the petrification), and to return in some time. '_But they don't need to know that,'_ Harry thought as Sirius grinned at him.

"So do we keep exploring, or are we done?" Sirius asked.

"Just a bit more. I need to find the real entrance in order to return for tea, you know."

* * *

"Hullo Harry," Draco said as Harry sat down near him in the common room. "Where were you?"

"Just exploring. You know, the grounds, an unused bathroom, The Chamber of Secrets, Black Lake. Nothing particularly interesting."

Draco nodded and returned to the essay he was writing, before doing a double take, and asking, "What was that, again?"

"Just exploring the grounds, an unused bathroom, and Black Lake. Grindylows are assholes by the way."

Draco squinted his eyes at Harry and wanted to ask again, but was too much of a Slytherin to ask outright and Harry ignored any and all subtle methods of convincing. He instead shook his head and returned to his essay. Harry smiled and began meditating.

* * *

The next morning, after an invigorating run through the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, in which he disappointingly only encountered trees, Harry cooled down by leisurely strolling back to the castle. He took the long path, heading towards the lake and then back to Hogwarts, in order to avoid the barking dog in the groundskeeper's hut. He reached the path, and as he went to turn onto it, he noted Dumbledore walking along it, heading towards the castle. He would have evaded him, but, as revealed by Dumbledore's nod, he had been noticed.

"Good morning, Headmaster," Harry greeted sheepishly. _'Holy shit,'_ Harry thought, having a sudden realization, _'The old coot made me feel guilty and I'm not even doing anything wrong. Damn, but he's good.'_

Dumbledore smiled and he responded, "It is indeed a fine morning. In my limited experience, I find that the merfolk serve better breakfasts the better the morning will be."

"You eat with the merfolk?"

"I do indeed. They always have such interesting gossip. In fact, just this morning they were talking about some disturbance in the grindylow's kelp fields."

"Oh?"

"Yes, but I'm sure it's nothing." Harry could've sworn he saw Dumbledore wink, but upon a second glance his face was as placid as ever. "So, Harry, what are you doing out here, besides enjoying the morning and humoring an old man?"

"Just a morning jog. I like to keep in shape."

Dumbledore smiled genially and mused, "I remember when I was able to keep in shape. It's been sixty long years of creaking bones since…"

"But you can't avoid getting old, eh?"

"I once knew a…being that disagreed," Dumbledore murmured, appearing disturbed.

"You're talking about Voldemort, right?"

Harry caught the slightest of widening of Dumbledore's eyes before the delayed response of, "Yes. Voldemort is what he calls himself," came. The conversation had hit a wall and the two walkers parted ways at the castle gates.

* * *

"Welcome to the NEWT level Herbology course. As most of you know," Sprout continued, looking right at Harry, "I am Professor Sprout. In this course you will be learning the proper planting, pruning, and harvesting procedures for more dangerous or uncommon plants. Today we will start small; you are to transplant and prune a young Venomous Tentacula without a wand to make sure you remember proper safety techniques."

Harry looked down at the two pots in front of him. One of them was empty and one of them had the plant in it. He was apparently supposed to use a trowel and clippers to transplant and then prune the plant. _'Huh. I have no idea how to do this without magic and not getting stung,'_ Harry thought. With a shrug, he set down his wand out of reach and with some wandless compulsion magic, and politely said, "Excuse me plant guy, but could you move into that other pot?"

Harry stood back and watched as the plant slowly and carefully removed each of its roots and then moved over to the empty pot and carefully enter the ground. While he was waiting, he heard a squeaked voice come from behind him, saying "I changed my mind 'Mione. Please—"

Hermione cut the speaker off by tapping Harry on the shoulder and telling him that Neville wanted to talk with him. Harry turned around and saw Longbottom looking like a deer caught in headlights in front of him. Harry took the initiative and stuck his hand out to shake Neville's.

"Hullo there. I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you."

"Uh...Hi Harry. I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom," Neville muttered.

Harry managed to suppress his snicker upon hearing 'Longbottom' and firmly gripped Neville's hand one last time before letting it go, saying, "So what can I do y'for?"

"W-well…Wih V-v-v…You-Know-Who back, I…Uh, I saw you dueling in Defense, and was wondering if you could teach me…"Neville stuttered, muttering the last bit inaudibly.

"Well, the first prerequisite of getting me to do something is saying it loud enough for me to hear it," Harry answered, grinning to take the bite out of the words.

"I want you to teach me how to duel."

"Sure, if you can say that again while looking me in the eyes."

Neville paused a moment to gather up his meager courage, and then looked right into Harry's eyes and said, "Please teach me how to fight."

Harry clapped Neville on the back and said, "Meet up with me after class. I'll give you the intro during break."

They saw Sprout approaching and returned to their plants. Harry muttered a, "Could you please sit still?" to the plant and began pruning it.

…

"Okay Nev," Harry said after leading Neville into an empty class, "Here's the deal. I'll teach you how to duel, but only if you always look me in the eyes and project your voice."

Neville, who had gained some confidence after Harry had accepted without any trouble, responded, "Really? That's it?"

"Eh, let's say you owe me a favor."

"Sure. Thanks, Harry!"

Harry nodded and said, "Ok. Step one: say Voldemort."

"V-v-voldemort…"

"Louder."

"Voldemort."

"Better. Now why do you want to learn freeform dueling?"

"Death Eaters t-tortured my parents into insanity."

Harry let Neville get away with muttering and stuttering, and banished all the desks away, leaving them standing in a clear area in the center of the class. He walked to the side of the circle opposite Neville, tossed Neville the holly wand and said, "Here's what we're going to do. You try to disable me with whatever magic you want, and I'll disable you without any magic."

Neville looked like he wanted to protest, but Harry's look stopped him in his tracks. He instead fired a full-body bind. Harry stepped out of the way and charged Neville, rolling under a curse before tackling him and taking both wands. After helping Neville up, Harry said, "Before I can teach you how to duel, you need to get in shape. I'll get you a workout regimen if you still want to do it."

Neville nodded and Harry left, heading off towards the dungeons for potions.

* * *

Harry entered the potions classroom and nodded at Draco and Blaise, who were partnered up, and sat down next to a decidedly nervous Hermione. Harry was one of the last few students to enter, and in the time Hermione had been sitting alone, she had almost worked herself into a panic attack. Harry grabbed her arm as she went to look through her bag once more, saying, "Hermione, chill out. The worst thing that could happen is that he marks you down."

"But Harry—"

"No buts Hermione. I've got your back here. It'll be fine."

Hermione sighed and began nervously fiddling with a Rubik's Cube, of all things. Harry sat patiently as the last few students filed in, bringing the total count up to ten, making it Harry's smallest class. Once all the students were seated, the door opened and Snape stalked in, robes billowing in the nonexistent wind. He went up to the blackboard and snarled, "This is the NEWT level potions class. You are here because of either competence in potion-making," he said, looking at Draco, Blaise, Daphne, and Theo, "Or luck," he continued, this time looking at Harry and Hermione. "Rest assured, if you are inadequate in the fine art of brewing, you will be leaving my class. Potion-making is a delicate art, and disastrous if done wrong. This year some of you will be learning how to brew potions using more expensive or rare reagents. The instructions for The Draught of Living Death are on the board," he finished, and sat down behind his desk.

Harry went and got the ingredients as Hermione was still panicking slightly. He came back to find Hermione adjusting her cauldron position over the fire, making minute, ineffective changes. He set the ingredients down and began crushing the Sophophorus bean with the flat of his knife.

"Harry, the instructions say you're supposed to cut it…"

"Read between the lines, Hermione. You're supposed to extract the juice and crushing is more effective."

"But the instructions—"

Snape, who was observing the students work, interjected, "Surprisingly, Mr. Potter is right, this time. Being a bookworm isn't the only solution."

Snape walked off and Harry patted Hermione's shoulder, saying, "He's just doing it to rile you up. Ignore him and you'll win."

Hermione sighed and continued the potion making process, obviously confused.

…

Harry dropped the potion off on Snape's desk, who sneered in response, and left with Hermione to lunch.

…

"Hiya Hermione," a red haired witch said as Hermione and Harry rounded a corner. "So Micheal…" the witch began, pausing upon noticing The-Boy-Who-Lived walking next to her friend. "Eep!" she squeaked, and scurried off, red-faced.

Harry grinned internally, thinking, _'Hah, Hermione is friends with a fangirl,'_ before voicing, "Well, that was odd."

The slim, blonde witch that had been walking with the red-head shrugged and said, "Wrackspurts."

"Luna, come on…" an exasperated Hermione muttered as Harry asked what wrackspurts are.

"They're little invisible floating creatures that make people act weird."

"Huh," Harry said as he began walking with Luna to lunch. "You're sure it's wrackspurts and not just human psychology?"

"Nope," Luna cheerfully responded. "But if it is wrackspurts, that's exactly what they'd want you to think."

Hermione shook her head and followed the ridiculous pair.

…

"Hey Draco," Harry said upon noticing his friend. "I'd like to introduce you to someone. Meet Ms. Hermione Granger, muggleborn extraordinaire."

Draco gritted his teeth, but remembered the deal that he had thought little of at the time, and said, "Hello Ms. Granger. I am Draco Malfoy, pureblood supremacist." Draco fought back the revulsion and managed to almost politely kiss the hand that Hermione had so thoughtfully offered. He then walked off, saying he had something important to get to.

"Umm. What." Hermione intelligently observed.

Harry winked at her, said, "Wrackspurts," and walked off into the Great Hall for lunch.

…

"I can't believe you made me do that, Harry."

"The week is young yet," Harry responded, smiling.

* * *

"Very impressive, Mr. Potter."

"Hmm?" Harry looked up from Hermione's arithmancy project to find Professor McGonagall standing before him.

"That conjuration is very advanced. Five points to Slytherin."

Harry looked at the miniature Hogwarts he had conjured more or less accurately, complete with many tiny Dumbledores strolling around. "Thanks," he muttered before returning to his work.

…

"I think you're right, Hermione," Harry said, finally looking up.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I don't see a way to transfer varied mass without an external power source."

Hermione sighed, knowing that power gems were outside of her price range, and said, "Well, at least it can be refined into an effective method of sending messages."

Harry shrugged, still trying to think of a creative way to use her project.

* * *

In his free period in between Transfigurations and dinner, Harry decided to visit the library. He skimmed through the books but didn't find any that were particularly relevant to him. Several of the books in the restricted section caught his eye, but whenever he went over there the angry looking librarian lady would glare at him. _'I bet Sirius will give me a pass,'_ he thought as he left the library.

...

As Harry walked down to the Great Hall for dinner, a bright flash rang out, and Harry instinctually dove to the side. After summersaulting back to his feet with his wand in his hand, he looked in front of him to find only several amazed students, one of which was a mousy-haired boy clutching a camera. Harry put his wand back in its hip-holster, and the boy exclaimed, "That was so cool!"

Harry grinned and said, "Heh, sorry I messed up your picture." He struck a pose and offered to let the boy take another. The camera flashed a few times and the boy, who had introduced himself as Colin Creevy handed it to one of his classmates he was walking with, and asked Harry if they could take a picture together. Harry agreed and threw an arm over the shorter boy's shoulder. As the camera flashed, Ron approached and noted the scene. He asked, "Oi, Harry, can I have a picture too?"

"You were the one that pushed Hermione the other day, right?"

"Yeah, the bint deserved it," Ron responded grinning.

"Uh huh. Yeah, no; bugger off. Sorry Colin, done with pictures for now. See you later," Harry said as he walked off, his friendly mood ruined.

…

"Hey Harry," Draco said as he sat down next to him. "You look out of sorts. I didn't realize the Boy-Who-Lived ever got that way."

Harry snapped out of his reverie and grinned at Draco, saying, "Well it's good for my image to appear to have the same flaws you lowly humans do."

"And as we all know, the great Harry Potter is indeed so far above us," Blaise joked as he sat down.

"Well, yeah. How was Divinations?"

"Well, according to Draco and Trelawney, you are going to die in a number of painful ways."

"Just so long as I'm not going to be eaten by grindylows, I'll be fine."

* * *

**A/N: Hello there. Sorry about the delay, having a busy schedule is lame. Someone reminded me that NEWT classes are mass classes, and because I'm too lazy to rewrite the previous chapter, Charms is going to be the only non mass class, 'apparently' because Flitwick is a good teacher or some such nonsense. This pretty much finishes setting the stage, and subsequent chapters will take place over the course of several days. Have a nice day.**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other large franchise. More at eleven.

* * *

"Morning, Neville," Harry said as he approached the nervous boy standing awkwardly in front of the Great Hall.

"Morning, Harry," Neville muttered to his shoes.

"Oi, remember our deal. I probably won't bite."

Neville smiled somewhat at the joke and looked up, repeating, "Morning, Harry. So what're we going to do?"

"A warm up jog. Here," Harry said, pulling out some muggle exercise clothes, "Put these on. Wizard robes are ridiculously impractical."

* * *

Dumbledore smiled as he saw the Boy-Who-Lived run past his window with meek Neville Longbottom trailing behind. _'It would seem that leaving Harry alone has done him a world of good,'_ Dumbledore thought and then frowned, thinking, _'I suppose I will have to tell him the prophecy soon.'_

* * *

"Okay," Harry said, getting Neville to stop his push-ups. "We're done with physical exercise for today."

Neville let out a relieved sigh and collapsed onto the ground. Harry gave the unathletic boy the rest he needed, before pulling him up and saying, "Let's check out your magic now."

Neville took out his old and battered wand, and waved it, trying to conjure a dog. The 'dog' that appeared lacked a tail, ears, and had a human nose. Neville winced, worried about Harry's reaction on his failed attempt.

Harry looked down at the fucking creepy looking abomination before him, disintegrated it with a jab of his wand, and told Neville to cast a Blasting Curse on the ground a few feet away.

"_Confringo!"_ Neville shouted, pointing his wand a few feet away. The explosion that followed was purple and lacked heat.

"Where did you get that wand?" Harry asked after a bit of pondering.

"Err… It was my father's…"

"Ah. Well there is some nonsense about 'the wand picking the wizard' and as far as I can tell, that one hasn't picked you."

"Will I have to get a new one?" Neville quietly asked his shoes.

"Maybe, maybe not. Can I see it?"

Neville responded with a sure and handed it to Harry, who conjured a perfect looking dog with it. He then went through a series of increasingly complex magics, culminating in transfiguring a nearby tree into a silver statue of himself, wearing his trademark cheeky grin. Neville watched, open eyed, as Harry stopped his castings and began focusing on the wand. Neville sensed an aura of magical power before Harry stopped and handed the wand back to Neville, saying, "Try to conjure another dog."

Neville held the wand for a moment, noticing it felt different somehow, before conjuring a happy looking golden retriever. It barked and nuzzled against Neville's leg and after being prompted by Harry, Neville cast a few more spells.

'_Cool, it worked. Sure is lucky that it didn't destroy the wand,'_ Harry thought. He had pumped the wand full of magic, but didn't put form to it, leaving it easy for Neville to place his imprint upon the wand. Sure, it could have backfired and resulted in a massive explosion, but where's the fun without a gamble? Especially when one can manipulate the odds at will…

…

"So I take it you enjoy being able to cast spells well," Harry said as he floated fifteen feet above Neville.

Neville grinned up at him and asked what Harry did, who responded, "It's a trade secret, I'm afraid. Just another part of being Harry bloody Potter." Harry then wandlessly canceled Neville's Levitation Charm and landed in a roll before springing to his feet.

"Can we duel now, Harry?"

"Nope," Harry responded, grinning. He then summoned Neville's wand and shouted, "Dodge!" before rapidly firing boil hexes at Neville.

…

After pausing for breakfast, the two continued training as they both had the first class free. Eventually, Neville had to leave for Care of Magical Creatures, while Harry, having nothing better to do, went off to the library.

…

"Hullo Hermione," Harry said as he sat down across from her.

"Oh, hi Harry," Hermione responded, not looking up from her book.

Harry shrugged and pulled a dusty old tome out from an expanded pocket and began reading. After about twenty minutes of silence, Hermione glanced up and noticed how ancient the book Harry was reading looked. "Is that a Hogwarts library book?" She asked, curious.

"Nope," Harry replied, in the same absentminded manner that Hermione had greeted him in.

Hermione waited a moment for him to continue, before exasperatedly asking, "Well, where did you get it?"

"The Chamber."

"What?" she hissed. "You got books from there and you didn't tell me?"

"Alas and alack," Harry bemoaned, "She only likes me for my books. Why couldn't she have fallen for my looks instead?"

"Bugger off, Harry," she said, swatting him. She then snatched the book, saying, "Let me see that."

…

"Can I have my book back?"

Hermione looked up at him with an almost scared look in her eyes. "This is a dark ritual book, Harry. You shouldn't be reading it."

"Why not?"

"It's evil, Harry." She opened the book and pointed at the instructions to a ritual. "Look, this one requires the tears of a virgin and an infant's heart."

Harry blinked before saying, "Well of course I won't be doing that one. But anyways, do you honestly believe that all "dark magic" is evil?" Harry asked, using his fingers to make air quotes on "dark magic".

"Yes!" Hermione responded with conviction.

"Uh huh. And could you define dark magic for me?"

"Evil, immoral magic."

"Just play along for a bit. What's the textbook definition?"

Hermione paused to gather her thoughts for a moment before saying, "Illegal magics labeled by the Ministry of Magic as evil, immoral, or overly dangerous."

"Bingo. Labeled by the Ministry of Magic. Personally, I refuse to let an incompetent, bureaucratic ministry make my decisions for me."

Hermione sighed and responded, "Please, Harry… Just don't—"

"I won't be sacrificing any babies any time soon, Hermione," Harry interrupted. "That'd be bad for my image, after all," he concluded with a grin.

…

Harry entered the Great Hall for lunch, parting ways with Hermione, and headed over to the Slytherin table, sitting down next to a surly looking Draco. Harry greeted Draco with a "bonjour" and received a grunt in return.

"Harry…" Draco began after an uncomfortable meal, "You're a Slytherin. She's a mudblood. You can't—"

"You'll find I do what I want, Draco," Harry interrupted. He then got up and walked off, saying, "I'll see you in potions, Blaise."

…

Harry walked through the halls outwardly calm, but internally anything but. _'That git,'_ Harry thought,_ 'Forcing his views—'_

Harry's angry internal monologue was cut off as he stumbled over the leg placed in front of him. "Who's the dead bastard that just did that?" he questioned, annoyed.

"Forgive me, my dear godson," Sirius responded happily, "I just couldn't stand seeing walk around with all those bad vibes."

"Hah hah, fuck you, Sirius."

"Sorry Harry, but you're not my type. So what's up?"

"Bloody Malfoy and his pureblood politics. Urgh, I've got double potions with him next."

"Double potions, you say?" Sirius asked with a twinkle in his eye. "I'm sure it'll be fun."

Harry watched Sirius waltz off with a spring in his step, and thought, _'That blighter; I was enjoying my bad mood.'_

* * *

"The instructions for today's potion are on the board," Snape said as he waved his wand at the blackboard and stalked over to his desk. Harry checkled silently to himself, and after a few moments a Ravenclaw, whose name, if Harry remembered correctly, was Shoe, raised his hand and said, "Uh, Professor, there is nothing on the board…"

Snape looked over at the board, brows furrowed, and cast the spell again. When it failed to have any effect he began outright glaring and repeated the spell once more. This time writing appeared on the board, reading:

_Instructions for brewing Uncle Snuffles' Wonder Hair Gel:_

_1: Gather whatever ingredients you deem appropriate._

_2: Mix in whatever fashion seems to work._

_3: Apply however much heat you want._

_4: Enjoy your success in the fine art of potion brewing._

After several failed attempts of removing, covering or ignoring the text, Snape gave up and said, "It seems that there has been a change of lesson plans. You will be attempting to construct a hair gel from scratch. Place whatever failure you have brewed in a labeled vial on my desk," and then stalked out the door, appearing to be a man on a mission.

Hermione looked at Harry, who was sitting next to her, and said, "Well that was odd."

"Eh, I guess. I wonder if Snape will be able to get Sirius fired for that."

"It was Professor Black who did this? But that's so…"

"Childish?" Harry finished for her, raising an eyebrow.

"Ugh, right, excuse me," Hermione said scathingly. "I forgot who we're dealing with."

Harry looked away from her to hide his smile and stood up, asking the class, "Does anyone have any ideas on how to brew hair gel?"

* * *

Harry looked over to the Head Table, where Dumbledore appeared to be giving Sirius a stern talking to. Snape, who was sitting a few seats away and was watching attentively, seemed to be experiencing some mixture of vindictiveness towards his rival and disappointment that Sirius was only getting a warning. Harry shook his head at his silly godfather, and returned his focus to his meal. Draco sat down next to him, having arrived several minutes late, and said, "Harry, you've got to ditch the mudblood."

Harry paused before responding, rather taken aback by Draco's bluntness, and eventually said, "Uh, no?"

"Dammit Potter, you've got to see this. She isn't the sort you want to be around."

"Oh?" Harry drawled, "And you know what I want exactly how?"

"You're Harry Potter! You can't just go around associating with mudbloods!"

"Listen, Draco. I do what _I_ want. Take your shit to someone who cares."

"Potter—" Draco began, red faced and flustered.

"Can it, Malfoy," Harry cut him off, getting up and leaving the Great Hall.

…

'_Ugh, that git,'_ Harry thought, levitating above his bed in the lotus position, _'I get where he's coming from; the bourgeoisie always hate the peasants, but damn, I'm not one of them and I don't fucking care about their bullshit.'_

"I guess," Harry continued out loud, "I'll see where this goes, and if he continues to be an arse, well…"

* * *

After an uneventful workout session and shower, Harry found himself walking to the common room. On his way, he noticed Draco leaning on a wall, obviously trying to look cool. As Harry approached, Draco said, "Look Harry, I'm sorry for being such a git yesterday, its just—"

"You're either with us or against us, right?"

"Right," Draco responded, seeming relieved. "Just don't want you to be on the wrong side when the time comes."

"Uh huh…"

"Anyways, sorry for being so Hufflepuff about it."

"Hah, good way to put it. Just don't be so blunt and we'll be fine," Harry said, slapping Draco on the back and walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Draco paused, seeming surprised at the easy forgiveness, before starting on after Harry, exclaiming, "Dammit Harry, wait up!"

* * *

"Harry," Hermione hissed as she shook his shoulder, "Stop trying to sleep and takes notes."

"But this class is so boring…"

"Ugh… I don't get it. You try as hard as I do in every other class…"

"It's 'cause this class is _The Study _of Ancient Runes and not just ancient runes."

"Well Mr. Potter," Professor Babbling interjected, having heard their discussion, "If you so dislike my method of teaching, how, in your infinite wisdom, would you go about ingraining the knowledge of long forgotten runes into stubborn students' brains?"

"Trial by fire, of course," Harry responded, grinning. "Just drop the students in an unexplored Aztec pyramid, and the ones that escape unmaimed pass. I suppose you'd need them to sign a waiver first…" he trailed off.

Professor Babbling paused, momentarily taken aback, before glaring at Harry and saying, "Unfortunately, we do not follow that practice here at Hogwarts," obviously wishing to drop someone in a dangerous Aztec pyramid. "Anyways, if you are unable to follow my curriculum respectfully, then you are free to leave this class," she finished before walking back to the front of the class and continuing her dreadfully boring lecture. Blaise snickered at Harry from a few seats away, who just rubbed the back of his head sheepishly in response.

…

"If you dislike the subject so much, then why are you taking it?" Hermione asked as they walked along the hallway to DADA.

"It's a requirement for cursebreaker training."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and asked, "You, a cursebreaker?"

"Well probably not professional, but raiding ruins is always fun. I guess you'd call me a hobbyist, really. Oh boy," Harry muttered as he noticed someone approaching, "Fangirl, twelve o'clock."

"Don't call Ginny that," Hermione said, swatting him. "She's just a little shy."

"Really?" Harry drawled, "Oh, ho ho, you're just asking for this."

Ginny walked up to the pair, getting progressively more red-faced as she got nearer. Once she was right in front of them, she managed to stutter out a "H-Hello…"

Harry looked deep into her eyes and responded, "Hello, Ginny, darling," in the most suave voice he could manage. Ginny "eeped" and scurried away in a rather, to Harry's eyes at least, weasely manner.

Hermione swatted him again, harder this time, and said, "That was horrible of you Harry, teasing the poor girl like that."

Harry said, "Why Hermione, if I didn't know better I'd say you were jealous." He then stopped her, ignoring her sputtering, and looked solemnly into her eyes, saying in the same suave tone as before, "Hermione, darling, I'm ever so sorry. Of course I know you're the only one for me. Please forgive me, my dear."

Hermione tried to respond, but her throat produced only air, and she turned a wonderful shade of pink. Harry held his face for a moment longer, before breaking out into a large smile and chuckling.

"Harry James Potter… You're just… impossible!"

* * *

"Welcome my little students," Sirius said once they were all seated. "I notice that you are all being very careful to not touch any substances. I'm afraid that won't do you any good. The Dark Arts are an expansive and diversified field of magic; I wouldn't be a very good teacher if I didn't attack from different angles. Today, walking through the doorway placed a charm upon you that is designed to have unique and highly entertaining effects. Well, highly entertaining for me, anyways," Sirius paused, obviously musing on a past time he had used the spell. "Your task today is to remove it. Good luck."

Before anyone else had any time to do anything, two Gryffindor's, one of whom was the only black kid Harry had seen at Hogwarts, shrugged and cast _Finite Incantum_ on each other.

"Blimey, Seamus, you've got a beak!" The no-longer black boy exclaimed.

The boy whose name Harry now knew as Seamus had indeed grown a wonderfully colourful Toucan beak. He somehow exclaimed through his new facial feature, "Well you're purple!"

Blaise rolled his eyes at the ridiculous Gryffindor antics, and said, "I guess we shouldn't try to finite it. What do you reckon we do, Harry?"

"We? I've already removed the spell so I'm going to watch this play out. You on the other hand, are going to struggle to remove it without embarrassing yourself. Good luck," Harry finished, mimicking Sirius.

"Isn't that bloody well like you," Draco muttered as he cast a few detection spells on the Hufflepuff in front of him. The spells gave no conclusive results and the Hufflepuff gained a lovely pair of elephant ears. He didn't notice and Draco moved on to the next Hufflepuff, with similar results.

…

Sirius smiled to himself as he watched the students go about trying to remove his spell. Most of the results were simple, just changing colours or growing an animal body part. There were a few hilarious results, however. For example, the Weasley boy had grown a pair of enormous knockers. The Malfoy that Harry had befriended for whatever reason now had a new hairstyle; it was wrapped up above his head like soft-serve ice cream. Harry had removed the charm the moment it was placed on him, but Sirius was sure he'd get him someday.

Having decided to end the students' suffering, not out of any empathy of course, but because class was ending soon, he stood from his chair, putting on his "Sirius" face, and said, "As you can all see, had that been some obscure dark curse, you would have all killed yourselves or the person you were trying to save. Just a general tip, many effects will only occur when the victim is conscious. Pages twenty to thirty five deal with common general cures to unknown curses and hexes. I expect that to be read and want fourteen inches on the topic." He then strode out of the class hiding his grin, hoping the student would try to use _Stupefy_ to render the victims unconscious and then suffer the results. _'Fucking with kids is so much fun.'_

* * *

"Is this going to happen after every DADA class?" Draco grumbled as he sat down at the lunch table.

"Hmm?" Harry questioned, acting innocent.

"You casually strolling out of the class, leaving the rest of us to solve whatever mess you left us in."

"Ah… Only until you're all as amazing as I am," Harry said, grinning. "Anyways, that was a simple spell with an obvious solution."

"Knocking myself out is not an obvious solution, Harry…"

Harry looked at Draco with wide eyes before beginning to laugh. After a minute of being rudely laughed at, Draco said, "Okay, fine. What's so funny?"

"You… you weren't supposed to do that; it was a red herring. Oh man, how many people fell for it?"

"Everyone except me," Blaise said, smiling.

Harry high-fived Blaise and asked what happened when the students were hit by _Stupefy_. "We were knocked unconscious and were shocked awake by hitting the water of the lake," Draco muttered, irritated. "What was the correct way to remove the spell, oh wise one?"

"Just don't use any magic and walk out the door," Blaise responded for Harry. "I saw you all disappear once you were stunned, but isn't apparition stopped by the wards?"

"Huh, yeah. I think I'll go check the library, you two up for it?"

Draco and Blaise both declined, citing some excuse or another, and so Harry made his way to the library alone.

…

"Hullo Hermione," Harry said as he sat down across from the busy witch. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing at the paper she was furiously scribbling on.

"Hmm? Oh, hello Harry. This's just the Transfiguration homework; I'm getting an early start."

"Ah, homework, right..."

"You should do it early, you know. It's a good habit."

Harry slumped down and clutched his heart, moaning, "My dear Hermione thinks I'm lazy… Why oh why must she wound me so..."

"Knock it off, Harry," She said, glaring at him.

Harry straightened up in response and winked at her, saying, "But seriously, it's already done."

"Really?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed.

"Well, probably," Harry responded, shrugging.

"What do you mean by 'probably'?"

"My Transfiguration homework is probably done."

"Harry, I hate to explain it to you, but either you did it or you didn't," Hermione said, sighing.

"Oh, well why didn't you ask? I most definitely did not do it."

"Then how is… Wait. You got someone to do your homework for you?"

"Err… Kind of?"

"Kind of," she questioned, eyebrows raised.

"It depends on how you define 'someone' and 'got', I guess."

"…Did you force a Hufflepuff to do your homework?"

"Nope. Also wow, do you really think Hufflepuff's aren't people?"

She sputtered before saying, "Well isn't that the pot calling the kettle black. Do you even know any of their names?"

"Erm…" After a short pause, Harry exclaimed, "Ah hah! One of the founders was named Helena Hufflepuff. Victory is mine."

Hermione palmed her face and said, "Why do you have to be like this all the time?"

"Justice never sleeps."

Hermione opened her mouth with a response before closing it again then saying, "Wait, no, I give up. Back on topic, who does your homework?"

"Brainy."

"Is that a nickname?"

"Nope," Harry replied, smiling.

"Who is Brainy?"

"You are, I am, most Ravenclaws are, and the being that does my homework is."

Hermione turned her glare on full force and said, "Harry bloody Potter, tell me who does your homework, or so help me…"

"My house elf. But if you'd like the posi—"

"What?" Hermione shrieked, before continuing in a hiss and not a shriek, mostly because the librarian was glaring at her, "You have a house elf doing your homework?"

"If I was lying the first time, would I tell the truth because you asked?" Harry asked patronizingly.

"House elves are slaves; you're profiting from slave labour!" Hermione continued, ignoring his remark.

Harry shrugged and in response Hermione got up and stormed away. A braver fangirl that had noticed the argument sat in the newly vacated seat, saying, "Oh Harry, you don't need her anyways."

"Sorry darling," Harry said as he too got up, "But the toughest nut to crack is always the sweetest."

* * *

Harry glared at Draco as he snickered again. Hermione had shot Harry dirty looks all throughout Herbology and seemed determined to continue doing so during dinner, thereby making Draco's day. Harry viciously stabbed a slice of meat, determined to not give Draco the satisfaction of hearing him snap. After a quick and thoroughly irritating dinner, he left the table and began the walk down to the dungeons. As he turned a bend, he heard a nasally voice saying, "What oh what will Peevesy do next?"

Harry smiled and canceled his habitual notice-me-not charm, deciding that the poltergeist would be a perfect target to focus his irritation on. In a meek voice he said, "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Oh joy; It's wittle Hairy Potty! Peevesy sure is lucksy," Peeves said as he began to swoop towards Harry, holding a bucket of paint. Harry cast a strong compulsion charm and a weaker memory charm on the poltergeist, as well as a pair of more complicated charms on the bucket, and continued his trip in a marginally better mood. He reached his room without further trouble and after a bit of meditation, went to sleep.

* * *

Harry walked down to where he had met with Neville last time, only to find the meek boy absent. He shook his head, remembering the Neville had had Astronomy last night and was going to sleep in, and began to exercise.

…

'_Bloody hell,' _Harry thought, _'Maybe I should take a different route next time,_' having noticing that Dumbledore was up ahead of him. He shrugged to himself and jogged up to the man, saying, "Good morning, Headmaster. How was breakfast?"

Dumbledore nodded to the boy who was now walking next to him and said, "Hullo, Harry. It was… fair. A touch too much salt, but I can't say what that means. I'm no centaur, after all," he finished with a twinkle in his eye.

Harry grinned and took on a deep voice, saying, "The eggs on the western plate are salty today. Ill tidings indeed."

"Indeed…" Dumbledore echoed after him. "I suppose what sounds wise to one can be the depths of foolishness to another."

"Oh?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at the turn of conversation.

"Indeed, Harry, indeed. Leaders do what seems wise to them, but it may not be so for everyone. Have a pleasant day, Harry," the enigmatic headmaster concluded as he strode off into the courtyard, leaving a thoughtful Harry behind.

* * *

Professor McGonagall nodded briskly at the dozen students standing outside the doors to the Great Hall as she walked up and pulled out the key. She had been unlocking the doors for decades, ever since she had been given the task back when she was an assistant professor. She had always been an early riser and enjoyed the calm walk through the empty halls and the consistency of opening the large doors every morning. Allowing herself a small smile on her typically grim face, she unlatched the doors, beginning a new, hopefully routine, day, and was suddenly knocked off her feet by a deluge of rainbow coloured paint.

* * *

"Ugh, peasants…" Draco muttered and shouted, "Oi, prefect coming through, move out of the way," pushing his way through the congregation of students blocking the entrance of the Great Hall. Harry and Blaise looked at each and rolled their eyes, before following in Draco's wake. Draco stopped at the entrance and after a short pause, said, "What."

Harry and Blaise looked into the chamber, one widening his eyes and the other grinning. A monster covered in rainbow paint, that might've been Professor McGonagall, was wading knee-deep through similarly coloured paint, shouting in a Scottish accent at the poltergeist zooming above. The poltergeist was carrying an upside-down bucket that seemed to be an endless supply of paint, at least if the state of the Great Hall was any indication. Dissapointingly, at least to Harry, Professor Flitwick came through the entrance and began walking on the paint, not sinking into it at all. He then summoned the paint bucket and, after channeling the spell for a few seconds, vanished the paint. He caught Peeves in a well-aimed _stupefy_ and said, "Sorry about the disturbance, you can come in now," to the students behind him.

"Well that was odd," Draco murmured as they walked over to the Slytherin table. Blaise offered an assent while Harry watched Flitwick talk to the ex-paint creature, which was now revealed to indeed be Professor McGonagall. McGonagall looked hilariously flustered and Flitwick was clearly amused. Harry grinned and sat down, beginning to eat.

* * *

"Welcome to class, students," McGonagall said as she walked into the room. She gestured at the board and said, "Today you will be beginning human transfiguration." She looked down at her empty coffee cup and said, "Ah, the instructions are on the board. I will be going down to the kitchens for another coffee; do not do anything dangerous," and walked out of the room.

"Huh. She could've just got a house elf to fetch it…"

"Oh, Potter, that is just like you," Hermione said, huffing.

Harry rolled his eyes at his irritated friend and began reading the board out loud. "Human transfiguration is very similar to regular transfiguration, it just has increased risks. To begin, try to transfigure one of your fingernails into iron."

…

"Harry."

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Undo this now."

"But Hermione, you look adorable like that. Look, here is your handle and here is your spout."

"Harry…"

"Fine. _Finite Incantum_. There's nothing wrong with being short and stout, Hermione."

"You turned me into a teapot, Harry."

…

"Ok. I can see why you didn't like this."

"Oh? Can you? Are you sure? Maybe I should roll you off this table and see if anyone can put you back together again…"

"Ahaha," Harry laughed nervously, "No that won't be necessary."

"Well then," Hermione said, rolling Harry's egg-like form back and forth. "I suppose you're sorry?"

"No, not really," Harry said, wandlessly cancelling the transfiguration on himself, leaving him sitting on the table, legs-crossed. "You make such a cute little teapot, though." Hermione rolled her eyes but failed to entirely to stop a smile from breaking through at Harry's antics.

* * *

In his free period before lunch, Harry found an unused classroom and removed the ritual tome from his pouch. He sat down on a conjured beanbag and began skimming the book, happily ignoring the more "evil" of rituals. While browsing, he noticed a trend; the more meaningful the sacrifice, the more powerful the effect. He randomly stopped on a ritual that called to "_bathe thine eyes in the lifeblood of a freshly slaughtered eagle._" Below the carefully scribed instructions was another scribbled note, likely added by some ancestor or descendent of Salazaar. It read, "_For greater effects, use a most majestic fowl, or nurture the beast affectionately from hatching." _Harry folded the corner of the page over and made a mental note to look into eagles, before continuing his browsing.

* * *

Harry laughed again at the thoroughly drenched Draco as they got up from their seats; they had been learning _augmenti_ that class and Draco had discovered that unlike Harry, he did not have an invisible shield cast on him ahead of time. As they walked out the door, Harry heard a, "Mr, Potter, if you could stay a moment," from Flitwick. Harry shrugged to Draco, who was smirking at him, and walked back into the class.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Mr. Potter, I have noticed that you are quite the Charms prodigy," the diminutive professor said, strolling back and forth in front of Harry.

"Oh?"

"Yes, yes. In fact, I haven't seen any students as casually skilled as you in this branch of magic since, well, if you'll forgive my hubris, I was a student."

"Wasn't my mother a Charms prodigy?"

"Indeed she was," Flitwick said, stopping his pacing and began to look up at Harry, "But you've got a touch more than her, I'd say. Anyways, I've also heard you're a bit of a whiz at dueling."

"I'd give myself that one," Harry responded, grinning.

"Hah, yes," Flitwick said, rubbing his hands together. "Well I was wondering if you'd give this old boy a duel or two?"

"I guess I could give it a try," Harry said, and began to walk towards the door.

"Wonderful, wonderful," Flitwick said, his eyes twinkling. "I'll see you at two tomorrow then?"

Harry stumbled on his path to the door, disturbed by Flitwick's tone; it reminded him of his martial arts master, Chao. _'They're way different; why do they remind me of each other?' _he thought, before responding with an affirmative.

* * *

"Hullo gents," Harry said as he sat down in between Draco and Blaise.

"Oh. Hello Harry," Draco responded. He then looked down at his plate and noticed that he had already cleaned it off, despite only arriving to dinner about five minutes before Harry. "I'm, uh, going to go put on a dry change of clothes," he said and walked off.

Harry raised his eyes at Blaise, who just shrugged in response, and said, "He was kind of out of it all dinner. Oh well."

"Oh well…" Harry echoed.

* * *

The candle flickered and dripped a bit of wax onto Draco's expensive mahogany desk. Draco sighed and dipped his feather into the inkwell and began writing on the fine velour before him.

_Dear Father,_

* * *

**_A/N: Hullo Gents! Sorry about the delay, I probably have some excuse or another, but I don't remember it right now. Anyways, this was just a filler chapter; next chapter will finally have some plot development. On another note, you may notice that I really like Flitwick; he will probably become Harry's mentor. Anyways, please review and have a nice day._**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: In the days of yore, there were dreams of a valiant knight slaying the mad queen and sharing her wealth. Alas, we now know that this is but a foolish hope – the Rowling shall rule ever on, sitting on her throne of ice, cackling madly to the Harry Potter intro tune. Which she probably owns.

* * *

A torch of demonic fyre flickers in the darkness, casting light upon a pale snakelike face. The light reveals little of the face's features, save for a pair of slitted red eyes and a menacing frown. The object of the figure's frown is kneeling before him, waiting for an order. Eventually, the figure makes a gesture and several fiendfyre torches flare up, revealing the Dark Lord sitting on a throne of black ebony and Lord Malfoy kneeling, a letter clutched in his hand.

"Report," Voldemort intoned.

"My son has sent a letter, my lord. It pertains to the Potter boy…"

The edges of the Dark Lord's mouth arch up, ever so slightly. "The young Slytherin. Is he to be an asset or an obstacle, I wonder." The Dark Lord drummed his fingers on his throne before gesturing to Lucius to continue.

"My son has befriended the Potter boy, and claims that he—"

"Give me the letter, Lucius," Voldemort interrupted. The Malfoy patriarch hesitated for but the shortest of moments, before handing his master the parchment, saying, "The second page pertains to the Potter boy, my lord."

Voldemort took the first page and tossed it aside without a glance and Lucius let out a subtle sigh of relief and summoned the parchment from the floor, both of which passed unnoticed by the Dark Lord, who was engrossed in the contents of the letter.

Once Voldemort was finished reading he muttered, "Yes, I can work with this," and then said to Lucius, "Tell your son to expose the boy to dark magic. If little Draco proves to be useful, it may be time to mark him…" he trailed off, dismissing his servant.

Had Voldemort seen the face of his most loyal servant as he walked away, he would have seen fit to _crucio_ him – the man was frowning deeply, as if he had been punched in the gut. Instead he smiled viciously and hissed to his favorite pet, which was coiled around the top of his throne, _"A new piece has been added to the chessboard, Nagini. It is no pawn, but perhaps a queen. It is neither white nor black – it has not yet been painted. Which paint will find you first, Harry Potter?"_

Red eyes twinkled before the fyres died down, leaving the two snakes in darkness.

* * *

Not so very far away, another pair of eyes were twinkling. These eyes were blue and not at all slitted, and they were twinkling out of mirth, not malice. The boy that was rapidly becoming the Headmaster's favorite student had informed him, as they walked together towards the castle, that he and Filius were planning on dueling later in the day. The headmaster had suggested, eyes a-twinkle, to perhaps make it a public affair – they could duel in the quidditch pitch after lunch. Harry had readily agreed, not noticing the mischievous glimmer.

* * *

"Hey Draco, Blaise," Harry said as he set down for breakfast next to them.

"Hullo Harry."

Harry scooped some eggs onto his plate and said, "I'm dueling Flitwick today in the stadium at two if you want to come watch."

Draco choked on his toast and began coughing, while Blaise merely smiled and said he would be there. Harry looked up and noticed Sirius trying to signal him, but ignored him in favor of breakfast.

…

"Finally decided to drop in, eh Harry?" Sirius commented as Harry sat down in his office an hour later.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry responded, waving off Sirius's complaints. "So what's up?" he asked.

"I heard you're going to duel Filius publicly…"

"Yeah. What of it?"

Sirius decided against warning his godson of his folly, having noticed his cocky smirk, and instead decided to get some revenge for all the times Harry had avoided his pranks. "Make sure to go easy on him, he is rather old."

0

Harry heard his name shouted as he walked out of the Great Hall after lunch. He turned around to see Hermione hurrying up to him. Once she was near, she said, "Harry, about your duel—"

"I know, I know," Harry said, cutting her off. "Go easy on him, he's an old geezer. Sirius already told me."

"Wha- Oh. Oh yeah Harry, you definitely need to be careful, you wouldn't want to hurt poor Professor Flitwick," Hermione said, trying to hold back a grin, having remembered all the times Harry had teased her.

* * *

Harry looked up from his book, having heard a "Mister Potter" intoned behind him. He turned to find the vulture-like librarian standing there, looking mildly irritated. "Mister Potter," she repeated, "It is five minutes after two. I believe you have an appointment."

"Oh yeah, thanks," Harry muttered, standing up and walking out of the library. He noted the librarian, '_Pinch, perhaps?_', lock the door after him and follow him on his way out. _'Odd,'_ he thought, _'I don't think I've ever seen her leave the library. Is she coming to watch the duel?'_

To Harry's surprise, she followed him all the way to the quidditch pitch, before gesturing for him to take the player's entrance. Harry gave a mental shrug and walked in, only to find Sirius waiting for him grinning as if he had just eaten a canary. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder, saying, "Perfect timing Harry, you're just fashionably late."

Sirius began walking Harry over to the exit door, and Harry made to ask what was going on, but was interrupted by the still grinning Sirius, who just said, "Well, godson, I hope you don't have stage fright," and shoved him out the door. "Not too much stage fright, at least," he amended to himself, before all but running up to the teacher's box, not wanting to miss the show.

…

Harry stumbled out into the bright sunlight, blinking to regain his vision. When he straightened himself and began walking forward, he heard a roar. He dove to the side, assuming that Flitwick was starting the duel, only to realize that the roar was coming from the stands. Looking up, he noticed that instead of the twenty or so people he expected, very close to everyone in the school had come. As his gazed passed over the teacher's box, Dumbledore gave a small wave.

'_Well damn,' _Harry thought, as he walked over to Flitwick, who was standing in the center of the field. "Bit of a large crowd, eh?" He said to the diminutive professor.

"Quite, quite! It reminds me of my dueling days," Flitwick responded excitedly.

"You were a duelist?" Harry asked, feeling a bit apprehensive.

"Oh yes. Dueling Champion in fact. Shall we begin?"

Harry managed to stammer out a "Yeah" while trying to keep his face relaxed. _'Damn, damn,' _he thought, _'That's why Sirius was grinning so much. And Hermione played along…'_ With a shrug, Harry began walking away from Flitwick to begin the duel, resigned to his fate. He turned around, finding Flitwick standing ten metres away, wand in hand. Harry drew his old wand and waited for the duel to be called. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore rise and shoot some form of fireworks off, marking the beginning of the duel.

'_Wait a minute,'_ he thought, _'That old coot knew—'_ he paused his line of thought to evade an explosion fired at his feet. Harry had to keep dodging about, as Flitwick continued to blast explosions beneath him. Eventually Harry managed to get a shield up, only for it to be broken by a piercer, followed by a bludgeoner which knocked him off his feet.

…

A titter of laughter rose from the crowd, and in the teacher's box a man sneered and said, "It seems your godson is worse at dueling than I thought, Black."

"Oh? Then you're less observant than I thought, Snivellus."

…

Flitwick began to walk towards Harry, before jumping back from the body and shouting, "_Hominum Revilio_!"

A red mist coalesced in the air a few metres behind him, and a dark blue spell shot out of it. Flitwick's well-honed danger sense warned him of the incoming spell, and he managed to duck to the side in the nick of time. He brought up a shield, blocking the barrage of spells Harry sent his way.

…

"Harry's amazing," Ginny murmured, intently watching the duel.

"Not really," Luna responded absentmindedly.

Hermione raised as eyebrow, questioning Luna's dismissal.

"Professor Filius can end the fight any time he wants. He's just putting on a good show."

"No way!" Ginny exclaimed, defending Harry.

Luna rolled her eyes and said, "Right at the beginning, if Filius hadn't let Harry get up and just stunned him, it would've been over. It's a performance, a show. Neither of them are really trying."

Hermione nodded, agreeing with what Luna was saying, prompting the blonde witch to comment that, "Obviously, this whole affair is intended to sedate the masses and take their attention away from the real issues, like the Rotfang Conspiracy.

Hermione stopped nodding, and resumed watching the fight with a forced look on her face.

Harry had stopped casting at the shield, having realized that Flitwick was no longer behind it. He instead conjured a thick fog and disappeared into it. A few minutes passed with the duelists out of sight, within the fog, before a bevy of colorful spells shot off, and the fog began to dissipate. The spectators strained their eyes, hoping to see who won the fight, and were rewarded with—

"Um, is Harry still disillusioned down there?" asked Ginny.

"Nope."

"How do you kn…" Hermione began to ask, before realizing that she wouldn't like the answer.

Luna sighed as if she had to explain something to a slow child, looked to her left, and said, "Because he's disillusioned up here."

Hermione followed Luna's gaze to find a popcorn bucket floating up the aisle, before settling down a few inches above the empty chair to Luna's left. She watched apprehensively as a single popcorn floated out of the bucket and disappeared mid-air with a loud, "crunch." She sighed and said, "You're supposed to be in a duel, Harry."

A squeaky voice came from above the popcorn, saying, "Harry? I'm not Harry! I'm Neville Longbottom!" The voice paused to snicker, before continuing, "I, uh, drank an invisibility potion instead of orange juice this morning by mistake."

"Invisibility potions are light blue, Harry, not orange."

The voice snickered again, but before it could respond, Ginny's impatience defeated her shyness, and she finally asked, "So who won?"

Harry shrugged invisibly and responded, "Ask Professor Flitwick. I couldn't tell."

…

Meanwhile, in the teacher's box—

"Well Filius, who emerged victorious?" The spectacled Headmaster asked.

Flitwick cancelled his disillusionment and shook his head, saying, "It was rather hectic; I can't be sure. Perhaps ask Mister Potter?"

* * *

Harry ignored the looks and whispers as he strode through the Great Hall toward his typical seat the next morning. He sat down next to Blaise and began eating breakfast, hiding his grin in his pancake. _'I can't believe we pranked the whole school that easily,' _he thought as he ate his pancake.

"Nice one, Harry," Blaise commented.

"I know, right? It's kind of silly how easy it was, though."

"Hey guys," Draco said as he sat down. "So Harry, you can confide in me- who won?"

Harry just chuckled and commented, "Exhibit A," to Blaise, who chuckled back, much to Draco's irritation.

Before Draco could retort, the morning owls flew in, delivering, among other things, a letter to Draco and the Sunday Prophet to Blaise. Draco pocketed his letter and Blaise took one glance at the post before handing it to Harry.

As Harry read the headline, he gave up hiding his grin as a lost cause and began smiling widely.

_**Boy Who Befuddles Duels Diminutive Dueling Master**_

_Rita Skeeter_

_The long awaited report on young Harry Potter has arrived! Although this was intended to be published yesterday, trusted sources advised the Daily Prophet to delay publication. And for good reason! Yesterday Harry Potter dueled the Hogwarts Charms Professor Filius Flitwick, well known for being an ex-dueling champion. A lesser known fact about Mr. Flitwick is that he is part goblin. Does the Boy-Who-Lived have a vendetta against goblins? For the inside scoop on the duel, turn to page 3._

_Loyal readers will likely remember the uproar five years ago, when Harry Potter was not admitted to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Headmaster Dumbledore,_ _Order of Merlin 1st_ _Class, Supreme Mugwump, etc., issued the statement that, "It is in the boy's own interest that he remains away. He is not prepared for fame." Well, regardless of whether or not he was ready at the time, he is most definitely ready now: immediately upon being sorted into Slytherin, he began making allies of purebloods and muggle-borns alike. Thought of as, "Amazing," and, "Very cool," by the general Hogwarts public, his few detractors say he's, "Arrogant," and, "A self-righteous pr*ck." Full student interviews are available on page 5._

_With the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, you must be wondering, "Can the Boy-Who-Lived pull it off again?" An exclusive interview with Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Sirius Black has assured me that, and I quote, "The V. man won't know what hit him." Perhaps Lord Black is correct, but the Boy-Who-Lived was sorted into Slytherin, just like You-Know-Who. Truthfully, it is too early to judge, but we can be certain of one thing: Harry Potter will be shaking the foundations of the wizarding world once more._

After a short pause, Harry commented, "I like this Rita Skeeter lady."

* * *

**A/N: Heyo, I'm still alive and all that. I'm experimenting with having a shorter, higher quality chapter. Anyways this was delayed because I've been playing too much League of Legends (and I'm still stuck in G1, sadly), so sorry about that. Anyways, please review and have a nice day.**


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